Geoff And Marie's Halloween Party

This started as a silly short story for Christmas, then, as so often happens, real life intervened; not catastrophically, but with things that demanded a lot of my time. So here it is, rewritten for Halloween almost a year later and longer than intended, so I decided to split it into two parts.

No transvestites were harmed in its making. Nor is there any under-age sexual content. There isn't that much sexual content at all.

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It was one of those rare quiet evenings where it was just Marie, Angie and me sitting quietly at home together. Marie was reading a novel, Angie was working on some quantum computing project and I was trying very hard not to doze off in mid-chapter. It was late September and earlier dark nights that heralded the end of summer did tend to send me into a hibernation-like torpor. "You know what?" my original wife announced from nowhere. "We ought to have a Halloween party this year."

My bonus wife's ears pricked up. "Ooh, that sounds like fun," said Angie

"What? Like a party for the family? I queried. That would be a bit light on guests."

"No, silly," she replied. "For the girls."

Now, if this is your first time reading one of my accounts, that might not mean a lot to you. So, new readers start here; the girls started out as Marie's six best friends. All are over sixty, as are my wife, my other wife and me. Then there's Samantha, Sam, is in her forties. Then there's Margie and Sue, both teachers in their fifties. Nor should we forget Wendy, the statuesque single mum of our grandson's best friend, or Jane, the widow of an old friend of mine.

Now, how to put this delicately? Both Marie and I have been having sex with all of them, regularly, for almost a year.

"So what would be the," I considered my words carefully, "nature of this party?" I finished, hesitantly.

"I thought perhaps we could all wear something sexy," Marie announced cheerfully, as though that was an everyday thing. "We'd do nibbles and drinks and then, perhaps, put on some porn and see if anyone's up for a bit of an orgy."

My, how my life has changed. Up until a year ago, the dirtiest thing she'd seen had been Game of Thrones but since then we have made a sex video, which she had shown to her mates in the pub, she has watched me have sex with her best friend, joined in, and had girl on girl sex with all of the others either just before or straight after I had fucked them. But, so far, we'd never had more than three in a bed and that had only ever been me, Marie and her best friend, now our shared wife, Angie or, once, Marie and me and Angie and Jane. Oh, apart from that one night when we shared a bed with that nice trans girl, Jess, and then a few times on our honeymoon with Beth, a lovely young American woman. And a couple of other rare occasion. But apart from those... Now she was planning an orgy. I sighed and went back to my book.

Of course, being Marie, she wasn't going to let it drop. "It'll be fun," she said later, "You'll enjoy it once it starts. Oh, please, Geoff can we?"

Angie aimed her best puppy-dog eyes at me too.

I find it hard to say no to them at the best of times and, as subsequent pleas were interspersed with bouts of them both deep-throating my cock, there was never really any doubt that this party was going to happen. My only hope was that the girls would have other plans or be worried that this orgy idea would fuck up the regular sex we were still having with them on Wednesday evenings.

Marie and Angie came in from their next Friday afternoon in the pub with their mates, deliriously happy. I groaned to myself as my wife confirmed my worst fears. "They loved the idea!" Marie enthused. "We're going to have a proper Halloween party"

I thought about the logistics. Oddly enough, there wouldn't be much to organise. Yes, there would be a dozen or so of us to cater for, but a trolley dash round Marks & Spencer's party-food aisle would sort that out. I make no apology for having a decent selection of drinks in all year round, so I'd just needed to make sure that there was plenty of Prosecco, gin and mixers alongside the beers, wines, port and sherry we'd have bought as a matter of course. The shops were already stocking shelves with 'spooky' tat, so decorating the house wouldn't be an issue either

I told Marie my thinking. "Oh, I never finished; did I?" she replied. "We decided that it seemed such a good idea we should invite all our friends and the kids too!"

"Sorry? WHAT? You want to pack the house with family and friends for a Halloween orgy!?!?"

"Let me finish dear," she said, her voice taking on a harder edge. "We have booked the upstairs room at the Swan again for a private party. And AFTERWARDS," she stressed. "Any of the girls who wanted to, could come back here with us to 'stay over'."

I thought for a moment. I supposed that it could work. Our family and friends had met before at our wedding and though we had also had Josephine's sex show, that didn't mean that every event suddenly had to centre around sex. I grudgingly agreed that it could work.

"Good!" she enthused. "Now about costumes-"

"What fucking costumes?" I broke in.

"Oh. Didn't I mention that either?" she said innocently. "We got so carried away that we started to think about making it a costume party and then Kate said what about making it Rocky Horror Picture Show themed and Sam found a clip on her phone and we all watched it and once we heard 'Lets Do The Time Warp' we all sort of just agreed." She finally stopped and took a deep breath. "Is that okay with you?"

It took my brain a moment to catch up. "Okay, so I'd rather fancy going as Riff Raff, the butler/handyman."

"Errr..." She hesitated. I started to worry. I was right to. "Well, Angie and I thought that if we dressed as Columbia and Magenta then you might, you know, you might dress as Frank-n-Furter to make up the trio."

For most readers under sixty or so, I probably should take another moment to explain so that readers can make at least a little sense of what we're talking about and my obvious misgivings.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show started as a gender fluid stage musical that was made into a film in 1975. A very straight-laced young couple, Brad and Janet, are stranded when their car gets a flat tyre one evening. They seek refuge at a solitary creepy mansion nearby. Riff Raff, the butler, and Magenta, the maid, reluctantly let them in to call out a rescue service. There, they find a party being hosted by Frank-N-Furter and his lover, Columbia, to celebrate... Well, it's complicated. Probably best if you just watch a couple of clips on-line. Seeing the young Susan Sarandon in her underwear as Janet is more than worth it anyway. So...

I would go full Frank-N-Furter, of which more later, and Marie would look for the sluttiest Magenta outfit she could find, displaying substantially even more of her substantial boobs than usual, while leggy Angie fancied trying the tight golden hotpants and sequinned waistcoat look favoured by Columbia. I considered pointing out that the film was fifty years old. I just knew, though, that Marie would reply that we were of an even older vintage, so I didn't even try.

"But Frank's... His costume's...," I stammered. *I'd have walk into my local dressed in..."

Marie just gave me a benevolent smile. "You'll be fine dear," she cooed reassuringly. "There's a cloak."

I bowed to the inevitable. I didn't like it, but the alternative, disappointing my wives and our little circle, seemed much worse.

Invitations went out to our 'closest' friends inviting them to attend. The invitations mentioned the theme and discreetly made it clear that this was an actual party, unlike last time. The room was ours from seven until ten thirty.

Our daughter, Linda was invited, aong with her boyfriend, Mike, and her teenage son, Colin. Our son, Peter and his wife, Jen, were also included. We asked Linda if her brother and Jen could stay at hers afterwards so that we could accommodate some of her mum's friends overnight.

Linda smelled a rat as soon as we mentioned that. "So you want Pete and Jen to sleep at mine because you'll have a house full of your girl friends coming back from the pub?"

"Yes dear," answered her mum. "Most of my friends are single, so I thought it would be nice for them to be able to get dressed up for the evening and come back for a few drinks afterwards."

"What about dad?" Linda persisted. "Isn't that asking a bit much of him, to be surrounded by loads of tipsy women?"

"Oh, he loves them all, in his own way. We've got plenty of drink in so he'll probably be serving them all night. In fact, most will probably stay over. I know they won't mind sharing beds," my wife replied with a straight face.

Linda knew enough about some of our 'activities' to know that there was a subtext here, but had more sense than to enquire more deeply into her mum's, entirely honest, yet pornographically misleading, assurances. She gave up and left, shouting to us as she drove off that they would be delighted to attend.

Over the course of the next few weeks, the replies flooded in. We had even extended the invitations to a few of the single lads from my old rugby club, some of the volunteers from Marie's charity shop and, as Angie put it, "Some of my nerdy friends who don't get out much." Everyone was looking forward to it. Even Jess, our trans friend from the hotel near Chester. "She has no-one, Geoff," Marie reminded me when she showed me Jess's RSVP. "Apparently she's going to be in the area anyway and I thought... could she maybe stay over for a few days? Not for sex, just to be with people who accept her?"

I didn't hesitate. "Of course," I said, hugging my wife. "It will be nice to see her again."

In the end, Colin and Mia, his school-friend, tactfully suggested that they would rather have dental surgery than attend a party where supposed adults dressed up as extras from a weird fifty year old film. When you put it like that... Anyway, Colin decided to go to his dad's while Mia went to her gran's.

So, on the evening of the party, Angie came over to help us with a quick tidy-up before we got changed. Jess would meet us at the pub. It didn't take us long to sort the house out. A few extra boxes of tissues, some toys scattered on the coffee table, that sort of thing.

Then it was time to get ready. If you know anything about the show or the film, you'll know what I was confronted with. Frank described himself as, "A sweet transvestite from Transsexual, Transylvaniaaaa". My outfit consisted of a black basque-style top with sparkly fabric laced up at the front and stretch fabric at the back, a pair of black lace briefs, a suspender belt with attached garters, a pair of fishnet stockings and a pair of sleeveletts. Finding a comfy pair of black shoes in my size with three inch heels looked to be the biggest problem until Marie, in a fit of inspiration, looked in the back room of the charity shop where she volunteered and found some with some other, ahem, 'non-binary' items that the staff had been too embarrassed to put on display. Marie bought the lot, just in case. The shoes only cost a fiver and fit perfectly. Took me a week wearing them around the house to learn to walk in the buggers though. Oddly enough, they still didn't hurt nearly as much as the 'back, crack and sack' treatment that I was ambushed with a couple of days before the party.

"Oh, come on, Geoff," my beloveds had berated me. "You can't convincingly portray a crazy alien transgender scientist when you're actually looking like a badly shaved bonobo stuffed into some lingerie."

So off I went to be waxed. To be fair, the pain had subsided by the following morning, mostly; the redness followed the day after. Oh yes! There was a wig too.

Marie's Magenta costume was only a little less extreme. A stereotype French maid's dress, extremely low at the front to display her magnificent boobs and well above the knee to show off the tops of the black fishnet stockings that stopped an inch below the hem, a little white apron and chunky black, high-heeled calf boots all topped off with a curly auburn wig. I got hard looking at her and I hadn't even taken my 'vitamins' yet.

Columbia, or Angie as we usually referred to her, was sporting gold lamé shorts, sparkly waistcoat and top hat. She even had sparkly tap shoes!

We were sitting in our lounge when our taxi arrived. Ken wasn't driving us tonight as he was actually a guest at the party. Marie silently handed me my long black satin cloak with its white fur collar. "You look lovely, dear," she said, pointedly ignoring my glare. A grinning Angie had more sense than to add any further compliments.

Bruce, Ken's mate and our driver for the evening, did a double-take worthy of Roger Rabbit when I emerged wearing my tousled black wig, long black cloak and high heels. So much so that he almost neglected to gape at Marie's tits. "Ken said this would be a fuckin' weird fare," he grumbled to himself as he opened the rear door, possibly not sure what the correct etiquette was for dealing with a six foot cross-dresser.

He did another double take as he saw my makeup in the light from the nearby street lamp. Smokey grey eye-shadow, black eye-liner and a deep red, almost purple, lipgloss. Oh, but my girls had both had fun 'glamming me up'!

"Doesn't she look sexy?" my wife teased him, eliciting an ambiguous croak from Bruce. Magnanimously ignoring yet another glare from me, she hefted her boobs in his direction, almost lifting them out of her top in the process. "Not too obvious?" she asked innocently. "We're going to a church social and we don't want to cause offence."

In the absence of any coherent reply from Bruce, she slid into and across the back seat, showing a huge amount of thigh as she did so. To be honest, she showed a fair amount of underwear too. I was just relieved she was wearing any at all.

Angie was next in line. Her top, while cut low, didn't contain the goodies that Marie's did. Angie though, she was wearing the tightest and shortest hot-pants she could find. When she put her foot on the rear door sill, Bruce's eyes just naturally followed the yards of slender inner thigh until they reached the inevitable destination. Angie waited until he realised he was staring at his fare's groin at which point she reached up and patted his cheek. "Oh, you are awful," she taunted him. "But I like you." Then she gently, well fairly gently, punched him on the arm before making a huge performance of sitting next to her bestie.

I was up next. Copying Tim Curry, the original Frank, I didn't go for a falsetto voice, rather choosing to soften my tone. Running my hand down his arm, I told him, "Ignore them sweetie, any friend of Ken's is a friend of ours." I gave him my most disarming (or alarming) smile and slid in next to Angie, casually allowing my cloak to open to expose even more thigh than Angie did.

Muttering quietly to himself, Bruce settled behind the wheel and off we went. I'm not absolutely certain, but I thought I saw him adjusting his trousers. I idly wondered which of us had made that necessary.

Arriving at the pub a little before the appointed start time, rather than going in discreetly via the side door, my girls decided that we needed to make an entrance. Any one of us would have caused a stir, given our outfits, but together? Conversations stopped in mid-sentence as people noticed that the other people at their tables were staring, often open-mouthed, at the trio who had just walked in through the door to the lounge.

"Just fucking own it, Geoff," I told myself. So, instead of scuttling in like a scared little mouse (okay, so a six foot mouse in a basque and high heels) I sashayed across to the bar, placing one foot in front of the other, like a tightrope walker. The girls matched me step for step, the slutty housemaid and the leggy showgirl every bit as attention grabbing as me.

"Fuck me!" Tony the landlord greeted us. "I should have guessed that, if anybody went for it full throttle, it would be you three lunatics. Give me your order and get upstairs now. "I'll fetch your drinks in a minute. And," he added, desperately. "For fucks sake don't take that cloak off until you're in the function room. God alone knows what you've got on under there."

I would have done as he asked, had I been the me that drank there the previous summer; perhaps I should have acceded to to his plea anyway. But I could hear Lucy's voice telling me to push my boundaries, take more risks, just be who I wanted to be.

Mouthing, "Sorry." to Tony, I turned and strutted towards the stairs.

The half-full lounge bar was still all but silent as the patrons watched our procession. I saw Angie's smirk as she noticed me lift my hands to the clasp at my throat. We reached the doors and as I turned, the cloak swirled outwards to be captured by Magenta as I released it.

I posed, in the basque, one hip cocked. I knew I looked ridiculous, but somehow I also knew that I looked amazing. For all the overt sexuality of my costume, I wasn't aroused at all; what I felt was empowerment. I had a beautiful woman on each arm and I was demonstrating a self-confidence that few (if any) of the drinkers watching me would ever experience.

Then I remembered a brilliant line from a song in the film. I mentally rehearsed the phrasing of my own version and turned towards the bar.

"Sorry, Tony.

I was only,

caught up in the situation," I warbled as Marie watched me proudly and Angie snorted in amusement.

"Our friends are due soon,

so we'll wait in the room

with breathless antici..." I halted mid-word and leant towards the bar patrons. I smiled in satisfaction as so many of them leant towards me, willing me to finish. "... pation."

I blew a kiss and turned and flounced upstairs, followed by my two arse-wiggling women.

We were still giggling like schoolgirls when Tony arrived with the drinks. "So now I can look forward to running a gay pub then?" he asked sarcastically.

"Think of it more as being a safe and non-judgemental space," Marie suggested, waiting for him to put our drinks down before pressing her breasts against him. "It might discourage the noisy louts and keep the place lively even on your quieter nights."

He looked unconvinced but at least slightly mollified by being in the presence of a truly magnificent cleavage. Eventually, he tore his eyes away from my wife's tits and back to me. "That took some nerve," he conceded. "Is this going to be a regular thing?"

I reassured him that I was merely caught up in the moment and would be resuming normal service after the party. That reminded us to check when the buffet would be served. Tony promised that he had everything in hand and our food would be arriving shortly to uncover as and when we were ready.

He left us to organise the seating ourselves while he went downstairs to "see what the other nutjobs you're expecting are wearing".

Peter, our son, arrived with his wife, Jen, and an earnest young woman he introduced as Kat. She was the 'nerdy friend' he'd recruited to help with the projection system to create atmosphere in the room. Our first attempt, Jo's sex show, was all about creating the ambience of a sleazy sex club. Our second attempt was a SciFi fantasy based on scenes from the Star Wars franchises which we had been careful to avoid infringing any intellectual property rights. Tonight, he promised us something even more sophisticated; this would be the first demonstration of AmbiSync, an AI software system that could turn the blank canvas of a plain function room into almost any space that you could imagine. He looked at Angie, as if for support. She gazed back innocently.

"Angela?" Marie enquired mildly. "Is there something you'd like to share?"

Peter looked confused. "You haven't told them about-?"

"Slipped my mind," Angie interrupted him. Then, aware that we were all staring at her, she explained. "Alright. AmbiSync is a proprietary AI software owned and licenced by Barnes ltd. We six, plus Megan, will be the board of directors once she's finalised the paperwork."

Kat gasped as she did the maths. "Me too?" she squeaked. We all looked at her. She was a pretty little thing when you actually took notice, though somehow she still seemed to recede into the background, even wearing her costume. Like Peter and Jen, she had dressed as one of the Rocky Horror party guests in black tights, white spats, a tail coat, white waistcoat, brightly coloured shirt, shaggy hair and sunglasses.

"Of course, you too, sweetie" Angie chided. "According to Peter, you've done most of the work."

At this point, Peter reminded everyone that our own guests would be arriving soon and he and Kat still had things to do to prepare the system. They retreated to the far end of the room where the projector feeds were located, while Jen watched them fondly as they set up.

"Angela?" My wife was not easily diverted.

Angie sighed. "Okay. Details later, but I realised this idea of yours to recreate a Star Wars universe ambience in an English pub function room might be marketable. But anyone we pitched the idea to could just run with it without us. So, Peter, your son, my sort of stepson, and I decided to create our own intellectual property and then market it. For that we needed a company."

She stared at us impatiently. "So can we just park the business discussion for later? There's a drink here with my name on it and this is supposed to be a party."

Now it was me who spoke. For once, I appeared to have noticed something that my girls had missed. "Jen? Your turn. Is there something you'd like to share?"

Magenta and Columbia both turned to me while Jen just looked guilty. "Oooh," Angie crowed. "Jen. Have you got a secret?"

Jen worried at her bottom lip as she tried to decide how to reply. "Er, yes?" She sounded hopeful that this would suffice. The piercing stares of the pair convinced her otherwise. "Kat is so sweet," she began. "But she's so socially awkward and she has an enormous crush on Peter, so..." She stopped there, letting the implication sink in.

"Have you said anything to them?" Marie asked softly.

Jen shook her head. "Not yet. She's easily overwhelmed and I don't want to drive her away. And I just haven't had the nerve to suggest it to him yet." She paused. "I'm not even sure how to start that conversation."

"How far are you prepared to go?" Marie persisted.

"Peter is just like his dad," Jen observed. "If he can find a place in his heart for Kat, I can too."

"And in his bed?" That was Angie. "In your bed?"

Jen nodded. "She just brings something out in me. I want to be there for her; there with her but with Peter too. I would never leave him for anyone else, but including Kat in our lives just seems right."

The doors opened before we could explore the subject any further, not that there seemed much more to say. This was not our marriage and we'd had to find our own way; they had to find theirs.

Kate, Sam and Lucy appeared followed by Megan. Charles, Megan's husband, was staying at home with Beth, the young American nurse we had met on our honeymoon. She'd been invited of course but decided that an evening with Charles would be less... demanding. She was probably right I supposed.

Lucy's outfit, as the very conservative Janet, surprised me until she slipped out of her blouse and her skirt to stand in a plain white bra and slip. Other guests followed, some dressed as Riff Raff, Magenta, Columbia, even another Frank, Ken dressed in a green lab coat.

We greeted all of our arrivals as the trickle turned into a flood, admiring the costumes of the Rockies, the Eddies and the 'guests'

After waiting long enough for those arriving fashionably late, Peter took to the stage and beckoned me and the girls to join him. He gestured for me to take the lead and then joined Kat at the laptop. I welcomed our guests and turned to my son. On cue, he started the programme; the lights dimmed and, somehow, we seemed to be immersed in the film set. The party had started.

Tony, the landlord, had finally baulked at the mental image of our party-goers trailing up and down to the bar, and had delegated one of his bar staff to take our orders upstairs and then collect them from the bar for us. She even had a card reader to hand.

We were also expected to use the upstairs toilets. As Tony pointed out, "You..." He meant me. "using the downstairs loos is going to create fucking mayhem, no matter which door you choose." He was looking pointedly at me as he said it, and he made a valid case. On the up-side, of course, because those toilets were for our exclusive use, we didn't care who used which doors, so the women could use any free stalls in the men's toilets without having to queue for the ladies'.

Jess arrived from her meeting just before we opened the buffet. She looked better in her Frank-n-furter outfit than I did in mine. She had reasoned that, since the show was all about gender fluidity, she, born a man who identified as a woman, wearing the costume of a man dressed as a woman, was honouring the whole essence of the message. I just thought she looked stunning. And I wasn't the only one.

Anyway, by this time, the party was underway and I was able to circulate without actually having sex with anyone. (Unlike Jo's birthday extravaganza). I chatted to my rugby mates and introduced them to as many of the others as I could. Marie and Angie did the same with their guests. Wendy was also introducing her friend, Connie, to our friends.

Connie and I had butted heads a little at our first meeting: she was a bit of a gossipy bitch and I was very protective of Wendy. By now, though, Connie had dropped the attitude she'd used as a shield, and she and Wendy were good mates.

My 'friend' Janet was there too and, surprisingly, so was her taciturn son, Ben. Even more surprisingly, Ben had come as Rocky, whose costume comprised nothing more than impressive muscles and gold lamé boxing shorts. Obviously, spending time with Lucy and Adrian, Emily, Mark, Tabbie and Alice, our four student friends, had given him an unexpected confidence. His dad would have been proud of him.

I watched quietly as old friendships were cemented and new ones formed. Jess seemed to spend a lot of time talking to one of Angie's 'nerds' while Sam was very much in the personal space of Terry, one of our club's full-backs. I liked the guy and suspected that they would be good for each other - if he actually asked her out!

I grabbed a paper plate and raided the buffet. I was just wiping the last crumbs from my bustier, when Cath perched on my knee. Now I haven't had sex with Cath, what with her being happily married, so this was an unexpected familiarity, though Marie and Angie do tend to routinely snog Ken, Cath's husband and our taxi driver of choice.

"Well, this is an unexpected treat," I observed quite truthfully; Cath is a vivacious and attractive woman. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Cath pouted. "How many of your women have locked lips with my husband?" she asked.

I stifled my instinctive protest at the label of 'my' women. I knew what she meant. "Well, Marie and Angie, obviously," I recalled. "Then Margie and Sue." I pointed them out across the room, currently dancing with Marie's co-workers. "You saw Lucy on that video-chat," I reminded her.

"Oh, we both remember that episode," she grinned.

"And then he drove Wendy and I to the theatre and I sort of let slip about our tradition," I confessed, pointing to the woman in question. "And then she met a workmate at the same performance so we offered her a lift home." This time I sought out Connie, who was deep in conversation with Margie. "So that would be seven. Surely, Ken has already told you this?" I knew that he was too smart to try to keep secrets from Cath. I also knew that he felt that, if he couldn't tell Cath something that had happened on his shift, then he shouldn't have let it happen.

"He did," she agreed. "But I wanted to make sure that we were on the same page. She shuffled in my lap to get comfy. It was nice but couldn't have the usual outcome because little Geoff was snugly tucked away in a pair of briefs that were surprisingly constricting. "I want parity," Cath announced.

"Ah," I replied. "Relative parity or absolute?" Marie and I had been here before.

"What?" She grumbled, "Ken warned me that talking to you lot was hard work."

I tried to explain. "By relative parity I merely mean that because your husband has kissed seven women, you get to kiss seven men. Though, to be fair, the girls kissed him; they can be quite assertive when they are in a playful mood." Cath seemed unconvinced. I soldiered on. "However, if you want absolute parity, then you'll have to kiss the same seven women." I thought for a moment. Marie, Angie and Lucy wouldn't even stop to think about it; Margie, Sue and even Wendy had experimented with same sex, well, sex, so I was fairly sure that they would be up for it; Connie though...

"I'm pretty sure I can fix you up to snog six of Ken's seven. Would you accept a substitute for the other, just in case?" I pointed out Sam, a stunning bisexual paramedic recovering from PTSD. "She swings both ways, so I'm sure she'd be happy to step up."

"No!" she squealed. "I meant men. Not women." Though to me there seemed to be an element of uncertainty as she spoke those last words.

I pointed out the few men in the room who were in relationships. "If you want to kiss any those guys, check with their partners first, otherwise just go up and ask for a kiss."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that." I agreed. She didn't seem convinced. "Watch."

Obviously, I could have cheated; I mean I'd slept with a full dozen of the women there. That wasn't the point though. I wanted to show Cath that, there and then, any approach would be considered on its merits without judgement. I minced across to the table where the students were arguing with Angie's nerds about AI's impact on education. I checked. No-one appeared to have any designs on Alice.

I gestured for her to join me. "Yes, Geoff?" she said. "What can I do for you??"

"It's my friend over there." I gestured towards Cath who waved back uncertainly. "I'm afraid that Marie and Angela have a little game where they kiss her husband every time he drives us anywhere. He's a taxi driver," I explained.

Alice waited patiently for me to get to the point. "And?" she finally prompted me.

"And this seemed to be a safe place for her to level the score. Not as revenge," I added, hastily. "Just to make things fair."

"Cracking idea Grommit," she said cheerily and strode off towards a bemused Cath. "Love the shoes, babe," she called over her shoulder as she left.

"Bugger!" I thought to myself. My intent had been to ask Alice for a kiss for me, to make my point, not to pimp her out to Cath. Too late. I saw Alice stop in front of Cath and gesture towards me. I watched helplessly as Cath stood uncertainly and stepped towards the younger woman. I watched Ken as he saw Alice tilt his wife's chin to receive a tender kiss. We both watched as Cath's hands slowly lifted to Alice's cheeks as she surrendered herself. I admit that little Geoff protested at his confinement as the two women separated.

Ken turned towards me. "What the fuck?" I saw him mouth. I shrugged.

This time, he watched as Alice strolled nonchalantly back towards lifting her hand to high-five me as she passed. "Always a pleasure to help a sister level the score," she announced cheerfully before she re-took her seat.

"Well, that didn't pan out as I expected," I muttered to myself as I wandered back to apologise. "Cath, I'm sorry," I began. "I mislead Alice as to who she was supposed to kiss. You were supposed to get to choose who you kissed; not me."

Cath looked at me as though I was simple, which was obviously fair enough. "In what universe would I have had nerve to ask a beautiful young woman like that for a kiss?"

"You're not upset with me?" I stammered.

Now, she looked at me as though I'd offered her a roast badger sandwich. "Upset? Upset? I've not kissed anyone but Ken like that, well, ever! And certainly not a total babe like...?"

"Alice," I offered. "Her name's Alice; she's one of the students who created our wedding outfits."

Ken joined us at that moment. "You okay Cath? That girl kissing you seemed to come as a shock."

She described the conversation we'd had. How she wanted the experience that he'd had with Marie and the others. "Not for revenge," she'd stressed. "Not to punish or hurt you. Just to have that experience."

He seemed reassured. "And then? That girl?"

"My fault, I'm afraid," I admitted. "I was supposed to be demonstrating how open minded just about everyone here tonight is. Alice got hold of the wrong end of the stick and assumed that I wanted her to snog Cath rather than me."

That tickled Ken. "Worked out well for you though, love," he told his wife. "Which way do you fancy swinging next??" he grinned.

"You don't mind?"

"Fairs fair," he replied. "Boys or girls; whichever takes your fancy."

I understood. He and Cath were solid; confident and secure in their marriage. Whatever happened here tonight was no threat to either of them. Speaking of which, I realised that I had no idea what mischief my pair were up to. Deciding that, like toddlers, if you couldn't hear them, they were probably up to no good, I went of in search of them, leaving Ken and Cath to their negotiations.

I saw Angie with Peter, Jen and Kat so sought out Marie instead. I found her trying to persuade Connie, Wendy's workmate, to come back to our house after the party. Connie looked puzzled. "Why?"

Marie just beamed at her. "Why not? Come back; have a couple of drinks; a bit of sex and then sleep over."

"What? Sorry, but no!' " Connie was adamant. "I've already been the unfaithful wife; I have exactly zero intention of being the 'other woman'."

"But surely that depends who you have sex with," my wife argued. "Most of our circle of friends are single, like Wendy. I actually encouraged Geoff to sleep with my friends because they had no-one. Your joining us doesn't mean that you have to have sex with my husband; but if you did, and you should, then you are no more of a threat, no more a bad person, than any of the others."

Connie looked unconvinced. Marie looked to me for support. "Connie," I began. "You have isolated yourself long enough. Yes, you did wrong. But you can't spend the rest of your life punishing yourself for what you did. Marie is offering you a chance to reconnect. Your past isn't an issue for us because it has no possible relevance. You cannot cheat on any of us because we aren't proposing an exclusive relationship, merely friendship. Obviously, we aren't an entirely conventional circle of friends, but we are friends all the same. Ask yourself, apart from assuaging your guilt, what purpose does distancing yourself serve?"

She drew breath as if about to answer, but then paused, unable to refute my argument. Her ex almost certainly had no further interest in her continued self-flagellation and her past sins were not our concern. Although she was now used to a life of self-imposed isolation, how could she rationally justify rejecting our invitation?

Marie broke the silence. "No purpose at all, Connie. None. Come back with us. You don't have to participate in anything. Just be open to spending time with people who are willing to accept you as you are; flawed perhaps, but wiser for it."

Leaning in to gently kiss the woman on the cheek, Marie took my hand and led me away. I understood; we had made our case. To push harder would more than likely push her away.

We had take less than a dozen steps towards where Angie was still chatting to our son, when Cath intercepted us. "A moment please?'

We stopped, both of us waiting to see who she wanted to talk to. "I want a kiss," she announced. It still wasn't obvious who she was specifically addressing. Her reply, when I pointed that out, shouldn't have surprised me. "Well, both of you, of course. You." She pointed at my wife. "have snogged my husband lots of times, and you." This time the accusatory digit was directed at me. "Well you..." At this point it probably occurred to Cath that I hadn't actually 'done' anything. Neglected to forbid Marie? 'Allowed' her? Surely by now Cath must have realised my wife was like a force of nature. I had simply adapted to her ways the way that fish have adapted to water. The ocean doesn't ask for permission; it is just a fact of life. Marie has the same attitude. Some men would find that emasculating; but not me. To continue the metaphor, yes, for a short period we were in the doldrums, but we navigated our way out into a new current that was taking me towards new undiscovered shores: it was both disturbing and exciting.

I digress; Marie had taken the initiative while my brain surfed (sorry; I'll drop the maritime references now). I watched as two busty Magenta clones kissed. Marie still had the edge on size but Cath's boobs were twenty years younger, not that either of them - the women that is, not Cath's boobs - had anything to apologise for. It was a lingering kiss by any standard and they were both breathing heavily when they separated. Again, the effect on the aforementioned boobs was quite... intriguing.

"Your turn," Cath all but growled at me. I think she was perhaps a little overstimulated and an idea that was both naughty and nice popped into my head. But first, there was a pretty lady in front of me who wanted to tongue-tango. Admittedly many blokes would cavil at obliging her, what with her husband and his wife both watching with interest. But, apparently, I am no longer most blokes, so I drew her into my embrace and let muscle memory take over. It's hard to describe kisses; suffice to say that, had we been in a more private setting, this one would have definitely led us to bed.

Perhaps, I mused as I supported a wobbly Cath once we'd separated, this was the benefit of our odd approach to infidelity. My wife didn't have to imagine what I was doing; she had either witnessed it (as I had witnessed her tormenting Ken) or her friends had described our encounters in vivid detail. She knew, as I did, that some instinct kept us both from stepping beyond the boundary of playfulness into the swamp of deceit.

I followed Cath's guilty glance at her husband. He seemed to take a vicarious pleasure in his wife's exploration. She rallied at his lack of concern. "Right," she declared. "Who's next?" I so wanted to point her at Jess, but the younger woman's trans-gender sexuality was her secret to share, not mine. Lucy intervened anyway. Lucy was another of my wife's friends who had tortured Ken, in her case giving him a standing lap-dance, if such a thing existed.

A buxom Magenta studied a petite blonde Janet; Cath in her slutty maid outfit, Lucy in the plain bra and slip that her character wore after having been seduced by 'Frank'. Cath made up her mind. "Come with me," she said, taking Lucy's hand and leading her back to Ken. There was a brief, animated, discussion before Ken grinned and left the two women alone.

I remembered my idea and sought out my old mate, Mike. He was the one I had gone to for advice on chemical supplements to help me cope with the increase in my sexual activity. Not only had he enrolled me onto a pre-release trial of a next generation erectile dysfunction drug, but he had joined me on the same trial. His wife, Becky, had disowned her adulterous brother in favour of his betrayed wife and, on hearing about my own three-way relationship, had suggested that they included Ruth in theirs. Hence his anticipating the need for chemical help in bed from time to time.

Mike, as Riff Raff the butler, greeted me warmly, his wives even more so; I was making out like a bandit, I though to myself. Once they released me, I explained my dilemma. "Mike," I began. "My friend Ken over there." I nodded in his direction. "Is going to be under a lot of pressure to, ahem, perform tonight." This time I indicated Cath whose breasts were currently being massaged by Lucy as they snogged.

I held my hands out by way of explanation. "As you can see, this outfit barely has room for me, let alone pockets for my little helpers. You wouldn't happen to have one to spare for a friend in need would you?" he did and after thanking him and complimenting him and his two ladies on their outfits, I wobbled off to find Ken. I say, wobbled, because the girls both offered a final 'thank you' kiss for inspiring their own unconventional relationship. Apparently Ruth was particularly grateful and, again, little Geoff protested at being tucked away and unable to join in the fun.

I made my way across to Ken and waited patiently for him to put Sue down. Sue is a more recent acquaintance of ours, one of two women we met at a dinner dance. To be honest, Marie has rather a crush on her. To be even more honest, I don't blame her. Sue is voluptuous, attractive, intelligent and rather naughty. Single now after a vanilla marriage, she is exploring her sexuality in a way that she never dared with her husband. I understood; there were some topics that might be too daunting to broach with someone you were married to. "Darling, will you piss on me?" might be a deal breaker for some husbands. Being involved with our coven of lunatics meant she could ask and, even if the answer was no, nobody would judge her.

Anyway, with that attitude, it was no surprise to see that she had wholeheartedly accepted Ken's request for a kiss. I idly fiddled with my bra-strap as I waited for them to finish. I took the time to admire the visuals still being projected. We weren't showing the actual Rocky Horror Picture Show film; the system used an AI to create the same ambience as the Gothic Mansion where the action took place. It was impressive. As was Sue's apparent determination to suck Ken's soul from his body.

I eventually coughed politely. Nothing. I coughed more assertively. Still nothing. "For pity's sake, Sue!" I barked.

"Sorry,... Frank," she said with feigned innocence. Sue, like Angie was dressed as Columbia.

"You are very naughty," I scolded her.

She held her hands in front of her, looked down and twizzled the toe of her shoe on the floor like a naughty schoolgirl. Little Geoff tried to burst out of his prison, demanding he be allowed to impregnate her on the spot. "Will I have to be spanked, daddy?" she lisped. Ken moaned and my cock tried even more frantically to break free.

"Go and kiss Cath," I instructed. "Let's make this a night to remember for her." Sue hurried off to oblige.

"And for you too," I said to Ken, offering a foil-wrapped capsule.

"And this is?" he said doubtfully, not ready to accept it.

"It's an over the counter treatment for erectile dysfunction." I held up my hand to forestall any protestation on that count. "For those of us not so afflicted, one dose will reduce your refractory time and increase your semen production for the next twelve hours or so." He subsided a little. "The only side effect is that it tends to turn your piss blue. But isn't that worth being able to give your adorable wife the seeing-to of her life?"

Really?" I nodded. He took the capsule, popped it from its foil and swallowed. "I won't be walking about with a permanent stiffy, will I?"

Tempting as it was, I told him the truth. "No. You'll get erections and ejaculate as normal. It's just that the interval between your orgasm and the next erection might be as short as eight to ten minutes."

"Fuuuck!" he breathed. "For twelve hours?"

"At least."

Ken was quiet as he tried to process that idea.

"Ken?" I broke into his reverie.

"Aha?"

"Tell me if it's none of my business, but I was surprised that when Cath dragged Lucy towards you, you didn't get to kiss her. Why, If you don't mind me asking"

"You know Cath's parity idea?"

"Yes."

"Well, we agreed that it was fair in principle, but too, I don't know... Too regimented? Too clinical?"

"Okay... So?"

"So tonight is open house. Either of us can kiss who we like without keeping score. No drama, no judgement, no guilt-tripping afterwards. Neither of us is looking for an affair, so this seems like the ideal opportunity for some low risk fun. Lucy was intending to introduce Cath to your like-minded friends. I think her plan is to ambush me later." From his smirk, he seemed at ease with that plan.

I suppressed my natural caution. Ken had kissed Marie, and Angie, multiple times. It didn't hurt our marriage, was I so arrogant that I could assume his marriage was any less secure?

"So you can cruise, ask and then kiss anyone who accepts?"

"Ooh, that sounds like fun." Jess had joined us. I introduced them. "Are you going to ask me?" she asked in her sultry contralto. She glanced at me. I guessed she was asking if I'd outed her. I shook my head.

Ken openly admired the third Frank-N-Furter in our conversation. "I'm definitely considering it now," he admitted.

Jess looped an arm around his shoulder and leaned forward. "There's something you need to know first," she whispered. Ken didn't reply; he merely waited. "It's my Rocky Horror joke," she explained, smiling at his confusion. "I was a man; now I identify as a woman, but I'm dressed as a man who wears women's lingerie and has both male and female lovers. Hilarious, no?"

Ken took a step back. I was concerned at first but... "I would never have guessed," he assured her, looking her up and down. "Everything about you screams, 'I'm a woman'."

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"This must be awkward for you," he reasoned. "Now, when I ask for that kiss, you'll be wondering why. Is it because I find you attractive or is it because you're what? A novelty?"

"It wouldn't be the first time," she conceded sadly.

"And, if I swear that it's because I think you're gorgeous, and I'd never forgive myself for passing up this one opportunity?"

Jess gave him an appraising look. "I'll choose to believe you," she decided. "I accept. Now take a deep breath and pucker up. This might take a while." It did, to the point that I was long gone when they finally came up for air.

Linda, my daughter, collared me as I mingled. "Have you any idea how disturbing it is to see your retired father dressed like a stripper?"

I gave the matter some thought. I couldn't even remember my own father owning so much as a pair of shorts. In fact, I could barely imagine my mother wearing an outfit like mine, even on her wedding night.

"Er, very?" I guessed

"And on the topic of disturbing, have you lot got some other weird sex thing going on tonight?" I shrugged, uncertain what she was getting at. "It's just that random people suddenly seem to be kissing for no good reason."

I looked round. She was right. Jess had obviously moved on, to be replaced by Lucy, who appeared to be trying to devour Ken, tongue first, while Cath seemed to be engaged in foreplay with Ben. "Er, It's complicated," I offered.

"Well simplify it," she suggested.

I sighed. "Your mum and Angie started this game where they flirt with Ken. He's a taxi driver." I pointed him out. "Then some of the others joined in."

"Some?"

"Five others, not counting your mum and Angie."

"So his wife is catching up?"

"Er, well yes and no," I explained. "That was the original intention but then they decided that it might be more fun if it was open season for both, and neither would keep score." I looked round again.

The thing was, it seemed to be taking on a life of its own. Those that had cheerfully obliged Cath in her quest for parity seemed to have enjoyed it so much that they just picked up the ball and ran with it. Oh Fuck! Even Mike, Linda's boyfriend, seemed to have got caught up. In his case he was caught up against Wendy's magnificent bosom; breasts that dwarfed even my wife's.

My daughter followed my gaze. "Oh, for fuck's sake," Linda swore. With a final glare at me, she looked around for a viable target, locked on and thirty seconds later was providing instructional guidance on the strategic alignment of the orbicularis oris muscles to achieve optimal tactile resonance to one of Angie's nerds. I swear he almost keeled over when she let him go.

I decided that it was time to see how Connie was getting on. Up until then, she had relaxed enough to mingle without Wendy to introduce her around, but now she was surrounded by people wholeheartedly embracing the promiscuous atmosphere of the film, and also embracing each other.

"What's going on, Geoff?" she asked, beginning to sound alarmed.

"A perfect storm," I explained. Then, realising how unhelpful that was, I explained properly. "You know by now that Marie and I have recently adopted a more relaxed attitude to sex?" Connie nodded. "Well," I continued. "Most of the people here either share our approach, or at least accept it as a choice we are free to make. Others, like yourself, we have invited because we thought you would enjoy the frisson of a party with a sexual tension but with no pressure to participate." I waved a hand at our guests. "In chemical terms we have a lot of reactive elements in a confined space and it only needed a catalyst to trigger this reaction."

She considered what I had said. "So you've only just now realised that if you assemble a group of friends, friends chosen because they have a relaxed attitude to sex, with some in skimpy costumes then, if someone pushes a boundary without being reined in, others feel empowered to follow."

"Exactly," I agreed. "It's obvious now you've said it out loud. In fact," I continued. "Now you have pointed it out, I reckon that if I was to bend you over this table and attempt to fuck your brains out, I guarantee that, before we finished, at least three other couples would have followed our lead."

Connie looked worried. "You're not actually planning to do that; are you?"

"Probably best not to," I reassured her. "I would have asked you first, of course."

"Good to know," she replied.

"A kiss perhaps?" I ventured. "Marie won't mind." I gestured towards my wife, currently failing the husband test with one of my rugby mates.

"Aren't you jealous?"

I looked across the room. My wife was having fun; John just got a hug and a kiss from a lovely lady; nothing was promised; nothing was taken. "I know that most people would think that I should be jealous, but Marie has simply shared an affectionate kiss with a nice man; she enjoyed it; he seems happier for it and I am pleased for both of them."

I pointed to Erica, one of Marie's co-workers. A pleasantly plump, good natured woman I often chatted to in the charity shop they volunteered at. "If I was to ask Erica out for a drink, take her home and seduce her, Marie would probably leave me. Because that would be deceitful." Connie winced. I pulled her into my arms.

"I know, Connie. That was close to home, but you, more than most, understand that it's the things that we keep in the shadows that can hurt us the worst. In a moment, I'm going to ask Erica for a kiss. Marie will know; everyone here will know; but, in the shop, it will be our naughty secret. My point is that it isn't the secret that is the problem, it's who you're keeping the secrets from."

"Geoff," she said quietly.

"Yes?"

"Stop talking and kiss me."

I did. And it was nice. And I think that was when she decided to come home with us.

I did kiss Erica, as well as Megan, Jo, Lucy, Kate, Sam and Alice. And one of Angie's female proteges and Jane and Jess. All in all, I quite enjoyed the party.

At about ten, Tony called to remind us that we didn't have much longer to order and drink up before ten thirty. As people realised how quickly time had flown, they started to make their final catch-ups before it was time to say their farewells.

Peter, God bless him, had a final treat. He called for our attention and announced, "Thank you, those of you who have commented on our AmbiSync trial run, now, as a finale, Kat has cued up a compilation of the most iconic songs from the film. Audience participation is not only allowed, but encouraged!"

Kat seemed to swell with pride at his acknowledgement and hit something on the laptop. The scenery on the walls shimmered and crystallised into a new scene. Above us was a dark stormy sky; to either side, an overgrown garden; on the longest wall was the frontage of a Gothic mansion with a young couple standing on the steps, debating whether such a pile was likely to have anything as modern as a telephone. Riff Raff opened the door and the first song began. The walls around us shifted again, this time to a sepulchral entrance hall as he began the opening lines to The Time Warp.

By the time the butler opened the door into the mansion's ballroom, those of our guests who had dressed as Frank-N-Furter's party-goers had gravitated to the centre of the room. Linda's partner, the other Mike, who was in the costume of 'The Criminologist', took to the stage. "It's just a jump to the left," he crooned, along with the narrator. The dancers moved accordingly. "And then a step to the right" And they did. "Put your hands on your hips." It was amazing to see them gleefully joining in the choreography.

"You bring your knees in tight." Other guests had joined the dancers now. The sight of adults, most in frock-coats and black tights, posing knock-kneed with their elbows out had tears of laughter streaming down my cheeks. Angie tutted at me for ruining my make up and quickly made running repairs to eyes and lips. Of course! My scene was up next.

This song was far from finished though.

"But it's the pelvic thrust, that really drives you insane."

I was convinced that some of the pelvic thrusts we were witnessing in the pub were pale precursors to those that would be taking place when the participants got home that evening.

"Let's do the Time Warp again.

"Let's do the Time Warp again."

Then the Magentas stepped forward for their verse, then the various Columbias.

"Let's do the Time Warp again.

"Let's do the Time Warp again."

With the end of the final chorus, the dancers collapsed on the floor. Brad and Janet tried to make a surreptitious exit but were halted by Frank, my character's, entrance. I admit that Tim Curry nailed the part; far better than my attempt. Better even than Jess, an actual transgender woman. I was too male, she was too female, he sat perfectly in the Goldilocks Zone.

I'll not bore you with a detailed critique, but I enjoyed my brief moment in the limelight; not so much though, that I missed a rather naughty Lucy claiming a bemused Ben as her personal Rocky for 'Janet's' Touch Me song.

As I expected, she was not at all backward in ensuring that, by the time their final verse finished, Ben was almost as familiar with her boobs as I was. Still, she looked smug and he'd just groped an angel's tits, so where was the harm?

Then it was over; all over. Peter hit the lights while Kat killed the projectors and we were suddenly in a plain white function room. The contrast highlighted again just how effective their, our, system was.

I was watching Peter help Kat to pack their gear away while Marie collected our overnight guests. Linda and Mike joined us. John, from the rugby club stood awkwardly a few metres away. "Will you be long Pete?" She asked her brother.

"Not much longer now." He hesitated, then, "Er, Lin?"

"Yes?"

He glanced uncomfortably at me, but then, I'd been getting odd looks all night, so that was on-brand. He looked at Jen, as if for approval. His wife nodded encouragingly.

"It's just that Kat was intending to drive home tonight, but we wondered if perhaps you wouldn't mind an extra guest." He hesitated again. "We don't want to impose, so she can share our room." Linda raised an eyebrow in my direction. I graciously ignored it. Kat was almost quivering with excitement.

"Share your room?" my daughter repeated, with the stress on the final word. "Or share your bed?"

"Both," he said emphatically. I thought Kat was going to pass out and Jen put her arms protectively around her. I noticed Mike seemed to be completely relaxed about the exchange. I was surprised when I eventually found out why.

"Of course she can stay," Linda confirmed. Then she dropped her own bomb: fucking nuclear it was. "The more the merrier," she said cheerfully. "John will be coming home with us too."

Everyone turned to me, apparently expecting me to erupt. "What?" I held my hands up. "Yes, he's a mate of mine, but what has that got to do with anything? Just don't hurt each other." I looked at my kids, and their partners, both old and new. "I do have one question though."

"Yes?" The pair prompted in unison.

"Am I going to get the blame for this?"

"For what?" asked a familiar voice to my right. Marie had crept up on me.

"Probably," Angie predicted from the other side. "I've no idea what's going on, but you're almost certainly getting the blame." She was almost certainly right, but there was no need to be so bloody cheerful about it.

"We want Kat to be the third in our relationship," Jen jumped in first. Marie and Angie gathered round to hug the two women.

"This is why you've been quizzing me..." Angie suddenly realised. Jen nodded sheepishly.

"And Mike has offered me an early birthday present," Linda announced. "A threesome, with John." The man in question waved shyly in our direction. I waved back to show solidarity. "And, in return, I've asked Sam if she'd join us for Mike's birthday. She said yes. What?" She gazed challengingly at her mum and me. "All three of you have shared a bed with Sam AND her mum. Sam will have screwed me, my boyfriend, my mother, Angie and my dad. You'll have to watch her with Peter," the minx grinned at Jen. "She might try to collect the full set." I noted that Jen looked more thoughtful than horrified at the idea.

I watched Mike too, as Linda spoke. I saw no sign at all of any misgivings. He was gifting his girlfriend a new experience, not pimping her out to his friends. He seemed secure.

I scanned the emptying room behind us. Wendy and Connie were waiting patiently by the door, Margie and Sue close by. I had expected a few more of Marie's friends to join us, but people had their own commitments and responsibilities. Actually, a couple had got lucky at our party too. Jane seemed to be renewing her acquaintance with one of her late husband's team mates; Jess and one of Angie's guests appeared to be holding hands and Sam and Alice looked to be planning to leave together.

I watched as a smiling Cath finally managed to extricate her husband from Tabbie's embrace and they prepared to leave.

I decided. I had been doing mental flip-flops for the last hour. Why? Because I had been obsessing for months over the fact that my wife had gifted me a dozen vaginas but she had been adamant that mine was the only penis she needed. Admittedly, young Jess had brought a perfectly functional cock to our bed on our night together but, I kept asking myself, was that enough? Where was the parity that Cath had sought? Should I invite Ken and Cath to join us?

I had finally realised that there was only one answer. No. None of our other playmates were in functional sexual relationships. Ken and Cath were. Nothing that either had done or said made me think that their marriage needed interference from me or mine. Of course I found Cath attractive and my girls' fondness for Ken was obvious. But did that entitle us to suggest that they opened their marriage? No. Any decision; even the very question; had to start and end with them, not us.

I went across to wish them a safe journey home. Cath hugged me tight. "Thank you for inviting us," she whispered into my ear. "This has been such a naughty experience. Now I just want him to myself."

Any lingering doubts evaporated with her words. "Have a great evening." I told them. I watched as she pulled an unresisting Ken towards the exit. With a wave and a knowing smile from him, they were gone

Angie checked my make-up while my wife fetched my cloak and, stepping very carefully in those heels, I made my way downstairs. Tony gave a theatrical face-palm as I strode through the door, Magenta on my right, Columbia on my left. There had been a fair turnover since I had made my entrance earlier so my appearance startled a whole new audience.

"Fuck me!" a voice muttered from a table front and right.

I strutted across to a bemused guy in his fifties. "You are so sweet to offer, dahling," I husked. "But I'm spoken for tonight. Perhaps, who knows? Another time? Another place? Another lifetime?" I booped him gently under the chin with my finger, blew a kiss and minced across to the bar, "Can I settle the bill later, Tony?" I pouted. "Only this little old outfit has no pockets. Look." I held my arms up and pirouetted, very daintily, even though I say so myself.

"Yes, yes. If, for pity's sake, you put that fucking cloak on and stop frightening my customers."

I glanced around the bar. No-one seemed too alarmed. In fact, my new friend from seconds earlier seemed to be rethinking a lot of his preconceptions about his own sexuality. Still, it doesn't do to upset the landlord of your regular pub too much, so I allowed my girls to cloak me. I swear that I saw a fleeting look of disappointment flash across some faces, both male and female, as I was finally covered.

A horn sounded outside. I checked the clock above the bar. It looked as though Bruce was on time. The door behind us opened to admit Margie, Sue, Wendy and Connie. The bar went silent again. Remember, the bulk of the drinkers were men, and these were four very sexy women in very sexy outfits. I waited for the women to react.

I was proud of them. All of them. Sue was first; naughty Sue. She set the tone. Wordlessly, she pulled her shoulders back, her generous breast thrusting forwards as she catwalk-strutted to join us. Margie followed suit, then Wendy, then Connie. Shy, insecure Wendy and prickly, friendless Connie had paraded through a bar full of men and fucking owned it. "Drinkers will remember this night for a while," I told myself.

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For those still wondering what the Hell the party theme was about, just use the search engine of your choice. There are even video clips out there!

Part 2: After The Party is already complete.