It's Saturday, late in the day and Liza is dressing for the Golf Club dinner. Her blonde hair, piled in a messy bun, which is much easier to reassemble after what she expects to happen later. A chunky silver necklace around her neck to hide any bite marks, razor burn or other skin issues. Her dress is a flowy navy tank top with large sunflower pattern, but she's bringing a light sweater to cover her shoulders if the evening gets chilly. Sandals with a moderate heel complete her outfit and she's ready to go.
She hasn't spent a whole lot of time in the last 2 days wondering what Chris has planned for tonight. He manages to surprise her every time and she supposes tonight will not be any different. One man, a dozen? Her brain seizes with the thought of a dozen men, but she also gets a delicious thrill from the thought. The biggest taboo she can imagine, twelve Strangers using her body.
Instead of dwelling on that unnerving thought, she gathers her sweater and a small purse and heads down to discuss the evening's plans with the babysitter.
Her husband drives, with Liza in the passenger seat and they chat about their respective activities during the week; Liza focuses on their sweet children's activities instead of her own, as usual. The neighbor's teenage daughter, their normal babysitter, is ensconced in the house with the children, happily watching some children's movie on the tv before dinner and bed.
It takes only a few minutes to arrive at the Golf Club and her husband holds her hand as they walk up the steps into the building. Staff is bustling about, setting tables and getting the room ready for the dinner. Liza looks around for her mother and grandmother who are part of a group that are arranging flowers on the tables, name tags at the front desk and other minutia that make a successful event happen. Liza's plan is to offer to help with these matters, and then as the night goes on, she will preempt other offers to handle any food issues, check in with the bartenders, emergencies, etc. This way, if she is nowhere to be found for a period of time, there shouldn't be any panic or search for her as her absence will have been normalized.
As people start to trickle into the dining area, Liza helps with seating families, those she knows as well as newer members. She finds herself sizing up the male guests, wondering which of them might be involved in tonight's adventure. Do they know she is the object of the adventure tonight? How many of the men in this room will return to these tables later, return to their wives, after having fucked her?
She searches for Chris among the groups of people scattered around the room. Some clustered near the bar and others already seated, chatting among themselves. No sign of Chris and she wonders if he's even going to show up. Maybe whatever has been occupying his mind lately has brought about the delay in attending tonight.
"Liza." Her mother calls and waves her over to a table full of geriatric club members. No doubt to natter on about golf scores and nursing home meals, she begrudgingly heads in that direction. "Liza, have you met Judge Calhoun, he's an old pal from grade school." Her mother's hand is on the shoulder of a distinguished and attractive looking older man. All of the women at the table are eyeing him hungrily, like a prime filet on dollar day at the cafe. As one, they turn to her and frown as she smiles broadly at him before she shakes his hand and says, "Hello, nice to meet you Judge Calhoun." Brilliant white teeth flash as he smiles and responds, "Lovely to meet you as well Liza." His dark blue eyes are appraising her, and the older women at the table grumble silently to themselves.
Chatting and laughing with the Judge and his tablemates, she almost misses Chris walking past the table, an attractive, well-dressed woman in the lead as they head towards the bar. Her dark hair swings loosely across her back and Chris has his hand in hers.
"Chr.." She swallows her tongue immediately after opening her mouth. 'You don't know him', she tells herself, mentally slapping herself on the cheek. It would never do to call out his name, she will have to find a way to talk to him later. Looking down at the people at the table to see if anyone noticed her near faux pas, she sees the Judge studying her intently. She smiles pleasantly at him again and excuses herself from the table as soon as she can politely do so.
She needs a drink, so the obvious path is over to the bar, on the opposite side of Chris and his wife, who are having a lively visit with several other members. Ordering a white wine, she leans against the bar, scanning the room. Her husband is nowhere in sight, no doubt he got talked into walking the greens with some of his buddies and will show up when he is done.
After making a vain attempt to catch Chris's eye, with him obviously avoiding her like the plague and his wife clinging to his arm, she gives up and wanders over to look at the items up for auction. A few catch her eye and she scribbles her paddle number along with a bid on the pages.
"Everyone, 15 minutes until the food is served." She hears her mother's voice booming over the low level noise in the dining room. Time to find her place at the table and get ready for useless chit chat. At least it will take her mind off of being the evening's private entertainment for a select group.
Thankfully Chris and his wife are not seated at the same table so she can eat comfortably and chat with the people she does know. Her husband and several of his friends get rowdy after drinking and the table conversation flows easily with quips and jokes. The courses are swiftly consumed by all except Liza, who picks at her plate, and time passes quickly. All too soon the announcement is made that dessert will be served while members take the opportunity to bid on vacations and golf packages as well as other donated items. Awards to follow means that there is at least an hour before she will be missed.
This is her cue, and she looks across the room to where Chris is seated. He meets her eyes and tips his head slightly to the left, indicating a doorway that leads to the outside. Nodding her head up once and down, she excuses herself from the table to go check her bids. Stopping at the bar for another glass of wine to bolster her courage, she makes a few adjustments on the bid pages and wanders out of the dining room.
She meets Chris just inside the door to the Pro Shop and offices, a canvas bag in his hands. He's tense, but that seems to be his usual mode these days and Liza takes his hand in hers, pulling it up to her mouth and kisses his knuckles. "Hey lover," Her voice is gentle, and she hopes to set them both at ease. She's anxious about the coming adventure this evening and she wants him to guide and calm her.
Chris smiles at her action and kisses her quickly on the lips. "In the back here, the medical office is perfect for tonight." Liza follows him through the darkened building, avoiding sports equipment and desks as they go further into the depths of the complex.
"Here," He opens a door that leads to a good-sized office with that has a bed and bins of medical equipment. The bed is bigger, a metal, old-fashioned type of headboard with rounded metal supports. Chris sees her studying it and grins at her, his good humor restored. "Yep, perfect for the handcuffs I brought along."
Liza shudders and turns to grip both of his hands in hers. "Tell me it's going to be ok, whatever it is you have planned."
"Better than ok!" His enthusiasm is contagious, "It's going to be something you will NEVER forget. No one here will forget it. We won't be able to top this EVER."
