Dinner with the ladies
My wife, Eva, has three very close friends. They got to know each other in secondary school, studied together and helped each other to get top grades in both secondary school and high school, where they took nature with a focus on mathematics. I once asked why they all chose math. The answer was that it was the line with the most boys. Admittedly a bit nerdy, but still. When it was time for university, they chose slightly different ones. Eva, my wife, chose a master in engineering and technical physics, Karin chose the Stockholm School of Economics and later did a PhD on econometric models, Hanna chose the medical school at Karolinska and specialized and doing research in urology. Three different choices, but they have remained together throughout the years. Their own small network, supplemented by the larger network they have acquired through their studies and their work, has been of great benefit to them. The girls are all 35, while we men are between 34 and 40. No children yet, but the talk is that it's about time.
The girls often meet, have dinner, and discuss. But they also have a lot of fun together. Sometimes we men get to join in too. They are three very intelligent, cute, and funny girls. And even though we men may not be quite as prominent in our professions, we have also found each other and meet even without the women. We have on a couple of occasions gone on vacation together all six and had a lot of fun. None of us are particularly prudish, so there is a light-hearted banter between us and lots of skinny-dipping on beaches if there are no one else around. We all think it's nice to just be. And it has happened, I think, that one or two small mistakes have been made. At a party, Karin and I started dancing, became increasingly close and made out on the dance floor. A few hours later we discreetly sneaked back to the group, both satisfied.
The holidays are over, work has started at full speed, and we are all fully occupied. The girls have agreed to have a girls' dinner this fall. They usually meet quite regularly, grow their network, and have fun. When Eva tells me that she has suggested they meet at our house and would like me to come up with something to do, so they can talk in peace, I suggest instead that I and perhaps the other men can cook and serve them. We can stay away when you want to talk and be as discreet as possible. I can see the lightning in Eva's eyes. Looks like she has an idea.
"Yes, maybe so. Must check with the others, what they think. We usually want to talk just between us at these meetings. But thanks for the offer, I'll check with them. If we take the offer, it will be on my, or the girls', terms. You know that?" she says.
I'm no fool, not always doing exactly what my wife says, but when it comes to her friends, her rules apply. That's not to say that I, and the other men too, can't make suggestions as well as surprises. But we know and think it's good that they have each other and that all three are strong women.
The next day, Eva told me that she had talked to the other girls, and they all thought it was a great idea. However, they didn't know if their husbands were available that night. I'll have to contact them and see if they can join us. Planning the food became my task. How they wanted the evening to be is up to them, it is, after all, their girls' dinner. I, and any other men will have to adapt. If we are going to eat too, it will be in the kitchen.
When I contacted Lars and Arvid, as the other two are called, only Arvid, Karin's husband, was available. We discuss the menu together. We will have oysters, six each, as a starter, with a bottle of Crémant. Then a lobster soup. The sparkling wine is enough for that too. The main course is monkfish served with a puree of Jerusalem artichoke. With a light red wine. Lastly, a cheese plate instead of dessert. A port wine with the cheese is usually good, something a little sweet is needed after the meal.
Arvid buys the wines and I buy the rest of the food. The dinner is on Saturday evening at six o'clock and Arvid will arrive at four, so we can start preparing the food and setting the table. Shortly after four, Arvid shows up. He brings the wines, which I put in the wine cabinet, so they get the right temperature. We look over the table in the dining room, take out a white tablecloth and set the table with our old fine china and, of course, freshly polished silver cutlery. Arvid is good at folding napkins, so I take out our old linen napkins, nicely mangled. He makes an artful fold, so that the napkin stands straight up in the middle of the top plate, the one intended for oysters. Below is a larger plate and between them a small, embroidered spacer. The glasses are beautifully lined up above the plates. Since there are only three people eating, I have removed all the inserts from the table, so it is now completely round with a diameter of 120 cm. Just the right distance but still a bit intimate for talking. I have a small flower arrangement, quite low, to stand in the middle of the table. I put it on a round mirror. No candles on the table, but in the crystal chandelier above it. The table looks nice.
I have prepared the puree and soup earlier in the day. The cheeses are on display to get the right temperature. The oysters look nice but should not be opened until just before they are to be eaten. Just a slice of lemon for them. Everything under control.
When it's half past five, Eva comes into the kitchen.
"Some last-minute instructions," she says. She holds out two small aprons with lace around them, the kind that waitresses used to wear over their black suits, when they needed to look nice. They are slightly rectangular, with a curve at the bottom, perhaps thirty by thirty centimetres, and ribbons to hold them up through a bow in the back.
"You'll wear these when the girls arrive."
"Okay, but won't it look a bit strange on top of our clothes, they're for women, preferably with bare legs," I say.
"Exactly, I haven't had time to get there. But you should be barefoot and, in fact, not wear anything other than these, that is, naked," Eva replies. "I hope you're well groomed, otherwise you'll have to do your hair. I brought some wax patches. No hairs around your dicks, we want them clean and nice. Now get on with it, they'll be here in thirty minutes, and you'll take care of their coats and serve us a glass of bubbly."
Wow, what is this? Arvid and I look at each other. What is it that the girls have cooked up? Did Lars know about it? Is that why he got busy? We start stripping. Looking at each other. None of us have been so careful with hair growth in the last few weeks, not since the end of the bathing season. The best thing is that Arvid helps me, and I help him. Arvid grabs my scrotum, puts a plaster on it and pulls it off. We have done this before and know how it hurts. I still can't help but grimace from the pain. A few patches later, my scrotum is nice and clean. Arvid takes hold of my penis, pulls it a little, jerks it, so it becomes hard enough. Then he plasters it as well and finally makes sure that the groin and the back of the asshole are hair-free as well. Really nice when he holds me and jerks a little lightly, although it also hurts when he pulls off the patches. Then I do the same thing on him. He has a firm and nice scrotum, slightly smaller cock, but it looks great. I don't have to jerk him off, his cock is already standing after taking care of me. Can't resist feeling it a bit. Hard and nice.
When we are done with the hair removal, we wash ourselves thoroughly. Now we stand there, each with a beautiful stand. What about the apron? Looks strange, the apron stands out and falls down a bit, it wants to slide to the side so the cock is clearly visible. I don't think that's what the girls want. But what to do, just hope that our erections settle down.
Then it becomes urgent. The doorbell rings, I open it and there is Karin. She looks at me, naked except for the little apron that hides nothing. A big smile spreads across her face and she nods appreciatively. I take her coat. Underneath she has a very short skirt and a see-through blouse. Does she have anything underneath? No, I can see her firm fine breasts, they are not very big, but wonderfully delicate. The nipples are clearly visible through the blouse. When I hang up the coat I get a hug, a real hug with my whole body. I feel her tits and stiff nipples against my bare chest. That doesn't make my erection subside, quite the opposite. Karin feels it too, rubbing her lower abdomen against me. We both remember our little erotic adventure a while ago.
