"So, it is me," she replied and the fire in her eyes informed me that I was either being played or she was truly enjoying taking me down.
"Abby, every man there is going to look at you and want to fuck you," I said crudely.
Again, she gave me a strange look and then took my hand and said sarcastically, "Oh, I'm sorry you're so insecure, baby."
That launched another round of discussion and somehow every time I tried to dig out of the hole I had created, I found myself descending deeper. A half-hour later, somehow, we had concluded it would be safe to go to the party to check things out but leave at the first sign of weirdness. In the end, I'm not sure whether it was a decision we reached together or if it was just the path out of the argument. Even then, I thought it highly likely we would change our minds before the day arrived.
Abby had the task of contacting Clemmy which she did the following day. Amazingly, little was said about it for the rest of the week, and it was only on Friday when I inquired about the dress that she told me it was a casual gathering.
"Okay, show me what you're wearing," I said.
"I'll show you but you don't get a say," she replied.
I stood aside as she went to her closet and came back with a dark blue knee-length turtleneck wool dress. It seemed a bit more than casual but also a quite defensive offering as it provided no view of her sensual neck or lovely thighs. A few hours later, dressed in grey slacks, a blue shirt, and a navy blazer, I waited for her in the living room and stood as she entered.
"You look lovely," I told her.
"It's not too racy, is it?" she joked and then began laughing when I rolled my eyes.
"I guess we're really going," I said when she calmed.
"I guess but let's be ready to leave," she responded.
Twenty minutes later, we pulled up in front of a handsome home set on a large piece of property in a fashionable section of the city. Frank met us at the door, giving my wife a simple kiss on the cheek, and soon we were sipping cocktails as the remaining guests arrived. In all, there were six couples including our hosts with Abby and I easily being the youngest. Everyone looked professional, and I was proud of the way my wife managed to interact with the group. An hour had gone by and people were on their second or third drink when Clemmy used a serving fork against her Champaign glass to get everyone's attention.
"We have something fun in store for this evening, but first everyone must change into the outfits we've arranged. They are on the table in the dining room with your name on them and there are plenty of places to change so get to it!" she announced in her normal bubbly way.
Instantly, people began moving towards the dining room like children receiving a present. Abby's eyes caught mine, and we lingered near the back nervous about what to do. I knew without speaking that we were both contemplating whether it was time to leave but we dutifully followed the others. When we entered the room, we could see that everyone had received the same outfit which looked like heavy pajamas with slippers. There was a long sleeve top that buttoned up the front and full pants with drawstrings. Both male and female sets came ornately embroidered with the only visible difference being an orangey-red for the women and gold for the men.
"This is a bit weird don't you think?" Abby said when the others had left to change.
"Yes, kind of, but these things aren't really...threatening. I mean... Do you want to go?" I asked.
"The longer we stay the harder it becomes to leave," she said.
I nodded to her and we prepared to go in search of our hosts when Clemmy appeared in the doorway.
"Don't panic. Still, plenty of time to leave," she said with a reassuring smile, and then quickly added, "Besides, you should see what Frank has created. It's amazing."
"Clemmy, we're nervous," my wife said.
"Honey, relax. Neither your husband nor Frank would ever let anything happen to you," she said in a soothing voice.
With a final smile, she turned and left leaving us once more to face the decision. I had to admit I still held a certain curiosity, so when Abby looked at me, I merely shrugged my shoulders. With a deep sigh, she grabbed her package, and together we left to find a place to change.
Fortunately, the first bedroom we came to was empty, although there were clothes there indicating a couple had already changed and left. I helped her pull the dress over her head and then started to remove my things. Abby was wearing a tiny thong and a very thin bra that seemed incongruent with her conservative outerwear and for a moment I wondered if they had been a subconscious selection.
"I don't think you're supposed to wear underwear with these," I said as she began to pull up the bottoms.
"If I have to run out of here, I want my panties," she replied which made us both laugh and broke the tension.
Now that she had set the precedent, I found myself pulling the pants up over my boxers. It took only a few minutes to finish, and we placed our clothes in a neat stack on the bed then joined the others. The odd clothing had created a buzz and now everyone seemed giddy which made me nervous about what might happen next.
Our hosts assembled everyone in the living room and dimmed the lights to a low level before illuminating the backyard with floodlights. Suddenly, a large tent appeared that seemed to be made from a very heavy material.
"Frank, is that a desert tent?" one of the male guests asked.
"Yes, it's a Bedouin tent to be precise. I ran across it by chance and the owner didn't realize what he had," he explained.
"Let's see it," a female voice spoke, and we all quickly moved towards the back door.
"Damn, Frank," I heard a male voice say ahead of me, as I waited to enter the tent.
Once inside, I realized what he had been referring to. It was one of the cleverest and most enticing set-ups I had ever seen. The tent could easily hold everyone and covering the floor were numerous overlapping oriental rugs. Also, arranged around the perimeter were six stations that consisted of a small mattress held within a nice cover, along with numerous pillows. There were several platters filled with fruits in the center and on either end was a hookah with multiple hoses. Middle Eastern music was playing through some unseen sound system and soft lighting filtered from around the bottom providing just enough illumination to see. Now, the outfits made sense as we realized our host's intentions.
For the next few minutes, Frank and Clemmy were inundated with words of admiration for their concept, and following that they answered questions. When the din died down, the couples were directed to pick a spot. Abby and I took one across from Frank and Clemmy and sat down cross-legged. Our hosts directed everyone's attention to the wine that was positioned in jugs around the tent and the goblets that went with each station. Dutifully, I poured some for my wife, and we joined the conversation while I occasionally fed Abby grapes from the tray.
"This is amazing," I whispered to her, as the others chatted.
"It is! Wow...not what I expected," she concurred.
Besides us and our hosts, the other couples included Steve and Sally, Craig and Diane, Jim and Mary, and Bob and Irene. Steve and Sally were just to our left and looked to be the next youngest couple to us at perhaps thirty-five. Steve was tall and in good shape with chiseled facial features, and his wife who also looked good was a honey blonde with deep blue eyes and a very nice smile. Craig and Diane were to their left, next to our hosts, and looked to be around forty. Craig was heavy without really looking fat which juxtaposed with his petite wife. Both had dark hair, although Craig's hairline was receding rapidly. Diane was full of life and jumped into the middle of every conversation, but her husband was quieter, almost brooding, at times.
To our immediate right were Bob and Irene who also looked to be around forty. Bob was a pretty average-looking guy, but his wife was very good-looking. She had light brown hair, a slender body, and a way of carrying herself that delivered the message that at one time she had been an absolute stunner. To their right were Jim and Mary that looked to be the oldest couple at what I guessed was around fifty. While showing some signs of age, they made up for it with their witty conversation that usually had the group laughing.
While the conversation continued, I noticed Bob pick up a small wooden box, extract something and place it in the hookah. Almost immediately, a sweet aroma filled the room and he reached for one of the hoses.
"Go easy, Bob. It's strong," Frank said, stopping the chatter for a moment.
The smell and his warning let me know that the substance being burned was very likely illegal. I had consumed my fair share of pot in college and Abby had admitted trying it several times, but it had been years and I knew the current strains were stronger. We watched as Bob sucked gently on the hose and after several seconds emitted a stream of smoke from his mouth. He offered the hose to his wife Irene while at the same time Jim took one of the other hoses. With my focus on the developments at our end of the tent, I didn't notice at first that Frank had fired up the other device, and now that there were two going, I knew it wouldn't be long before our turn came.
