The Special Event Ch. 01-02

The Special Event
A work of Fiction

Part 1

Late on a cold Tuesday night, Melody was doing a little web surfing. Bob had already gone to bed, as usual, and she heard his steady, heavy snoring from down the hall. She moved and clicked her mouse with one hand, and curled her long locks of blonde hair absent-mindedly between the fingers of her other hand. Never much online, she thought, just shopping and a few goofy videos people sent.

Opening her Gmail account, she saw a few new emails. Her sister forwarding another lame joke (she hated scrolling past the hundreds of other email addresses before you got to the joke), a couple of online store advertisements, and... hmmm... one odd email. Melody was intrigued by the subject which read "A Special Invitation for Melody." At first glance, it looked like one of the thousands of "SPAM" email which were usually, but not always, sent into the "Junk" mail. Pushing aside a slight warning in her head, curiosity got the best of her and she opened it. It was from an long, odd-looking email address with a bunch of letters and numbers mixed up.

She began to read:

A Special Invitation for Melody

This is not an advertisement. This is for you, Melody Huffman, born April 19 in Oshkosh, Wisconsin.

You have been invited by a special friend to a special event. The friend who has invited you is a person from your past of the opposite sex. At one time in your life, you had a special, intimate relationship with this person.

At this time, this person from your past has chosen not to reveal their identity, to allow you to delete this email and forget about this communication forever. Your life could be perfect, your desires fulfilled. If that is the case, then close this email and delete it, and you will not receive any further communications. However... this event and thousands like it, across the entire U.S., has been organized because many of us are living lives we did not expect. Lives which may be comfortable, steady, dependable, but are without surprise, without excitement. As we grow older, we may ask ourselves "is this all there is?" We may wonder what happened to the excitement? What happened to the foolish, impulsive thrills we used to have? Is the rest of our lives defined by riding out the days, doing the same things over and over again until we die?

If you are still reading this email, you may want to know more about this event, and you may be curious who sent you this email.

Below are two buttons. One button says "Not Interested." Click on that, and you will never receive another email from us. The other button is "Learn More." Click on that, and you will receive a second email with more information about the upcoming special event in your area. You will still be able to walk away at any time prior to the event without cost and without risk.

Before you choose, you should know... the event is something which, if you choose to attend, you will need to do so secretly. Nobody can know that you are involved in this event. When the details of the event become clear, you will know why. Secondly, you should know that this event will be exciting, amazing, fulfilling and incredibly FUN... and if you follow the rules and do not share your involvement with anyone (outside of those already involved), things will be completely safe, and there need not be any effect whatsoever to your life as a whole. You may even find that this event will enrich and improve your "normal" life in ways you had never imagined possible.

Now, Melody, click a button below. Failing to click on a button will simply be the same as clicking on "Not Interested." Thank you.

Melody saw the red Not Interested link, and the green Learn More link, and she felt her heart racing. Who were these people? Who invited her? Her heart raced... and nearly skipped a beat when she remembered the man she hoped it was. How did they know her social security number and her birthdate? Should she turn them in? Should she just delete the email?

She thought for a long time. Bob's snoring drifted down the hallway. She sipped her beer, warm now, and grimaced. She much preferred white wine, but Bob never brought that home.

Melody wasn't UNhappy with her life with Bob. They went on their two vacations a year, golfed together at the club, rented movies. They had friends and talked about all the traditional friend-things. They had sex twice or three times per month; unexceptional, not bad, not great. Normal married life, she thought. No loud arguments, no screaming,... but no deep discussions. They didn't look into each others eyes very much, she thought. It was almost as if they talked to the wall when they talked to each other. As if speaking to each other was something that was standing in the way of doing something more important. They had not had any kids. They had both been focused on their careers. Now, in their late 30's, they had discussed having kids, but something was always standing in the way, it seemed, and kept the discussion from turning serious. She knew she was still stunning. She worked out at the club several times per week, and her long blond hair and athletic but voluptuous figure (she had large 38D natural breasts) turned heads continuously. Bob, on the other hand, did not really take care of himself. His rapidly expanding waistline didn't concern her all that much usually, but it didn't please her either. His balding head was cute in a way, but it didn't turn her on the way some women claimed.

Mainly, with Bob, it was the little things. The things he didn't do. He didn't open the door for her anymore. He charged through each door, expecting her to fend for herself. He ordered food at the club without asking first what she was having- or even if she was ready to order. "I'll have the New York, Medium, and the fries. Oh- honey, sorry, are you ready to order?" All the little things, things that said in so many ways that she didn't matter to him. Not really. Not anymore.

She looked again at the email and re-read the phrase "you will still be able to walk away..." Forcing away sharp warnings in her head, she clicked ... Learn More.

Later that night, lying next to the snoozing Bob, her heart was still racing with thoughts of the strange email and its meaning. Her thoughts returned to her past, before Bob. She remembered him. His eyes, his hair, the way he touched her. Her hands traced down the front of her hips and to her thighs. She found herself very wet, more so than she had been in years. She suppressed a soft moan as her fingers parted her soaking lips, making a wet sound in the suddenly silent bedroom. She easily remembered the way his fingers used to move, as he would kiss her thighs, teasing, his tongue getting closer. She circled her fingers around her clit, remembering his insistent tongue... playing, circling, then tracing her thick labia... sucking her lip between his, first one then the other, then licking her entire cunt like an ice cream cone, smacking his mouth succulently as if he were enjoying the finest gourmet cuisine... then sliding up to her, kissing her mouth deeply, sharing her taste, their tongues intertwined as the thick head of his cock began to easily part her warm, inviting folds....

Melody came then, a deep, shuddering orgasm ... she suppressed her moans and breathing, and she tried to keep as motionless as possible so as not to wake the still-motionless Bob. The orgasm and its after effects, then the second and third time, lesser each time but easier, lasted another 10 minutes. As the third time subsided, Bob's snoring again began. Or, maybe he had been snoring the entire time and she hadn't noticed.

During her long, sleepless night, she checked her email three more times (no new mail), and checked once again when she was preparing breakfast for Bob that morning. Serving him as he read the sports page, she pretended to be interested as he made comments about some player that would be re-signed, and another player who was retiring. It didn't matter that she was there or not, she thought, he might be talking to the wall and would probably be happier. Except of course the wall did not serve bacon and hashbrowns. The wall did not go 'mmm hmmm' at the right time, or, "oh no..." depending on the positive or negative sound of the vitally important sports news tidbit.

After Bob left, she postponed her rush to get ready for work, and checked her email. Nothing yet. How silly she had been! Oh well.

The reality of the day rushed in, and she hopped on her mental train and began her daily ride. Always the same. One day blurring into the next, she thought as she drove to work. In the office now, she hung her coat and got her coffee with Kelly, like always. Same chitchat. American Idol last night.

Melody's mind was not there with her in the weekly status meeting. The droning voice of her boss, whining about the declining profits and the effects of the economy, faded away as her thoughts overtook her again. What does this all mean, she wondered? Why do I give a damn about this stupid business stuff? Why am I wasting whatever youth I have left sitting in a fucking cube, pounding away on a keyboard, so that Inscomp can increase their profit a few more bucks over last year?

"Melody?" her boss broke into her consciousness rudely, "are you with us?"

"Sorry Jonathan," she managed, and straightened up into her chair. Looking up, she saw he was again staring at her cleavage. She adjusted her blouse and stared at him until he met her gaze, then looked away embarrassed, and continued his points about the quarter's profits. Kelly gave her a wide-eyed look for a second as if she was saying "where is your head this morning, girl?" Jonathan did not like inattention. As he frequently reminded them, he did not spend 35 years getting to be an Assistant Vice President with Inscomp for nothing, after all.

On the second day, she checked her email five times. On the third day, three times.

On the fourth day, Thursday, she convinced herself she would never receive another email. She felt silly, but also a little scared. This must be some kind of weird scam, she thought... maybe it was a virus after all? Maybe somehow by clicking on that link, she had launched some sort of attack against her personal identity? Alarmed, she checked her bank accounts. No unusual transactions, she thought, and breathed a little easier.

On Friday, however, a new email arrived.

Part 2

Friday evening, after Bob had left for the evening to play cards, Melody opened her email again, and Melody's heart skipped a beat when she saw the subject: "Thank you, Melody!"

Her hand moved the mouse absently in circles, hovering the little arrow around the email for 10 or 20 seconds, like the pointer on an Ouija board. She opened it.

Thank you for accepting our Special Invitation, Melody. As a reminder, you were invited by a person of the opposite sex with which you once had an intimate relationship.

The person who invited you has been notified of your willingness to participate in this Special Event. We are sure He is thrilled that you took the first step, to Learn More. Preparations for your event are underway, and more details will become known to you in the coming days.

Before we give you information about the event, you need to know a few things, and you will need to pass three small tests.

First of all, a few things you should know:

1)The price for this event is $1,000 per couple. Some couples are actually three or four people- in this case, discounts will be considered. Your fee has been taken care of by your sponsor - usually the person who invited you.

2)You will need two full days (including one full night) away from your "real life" to participate. Your event will be scheduled in the next two months, on two consecutive weekdays (M-F). You will need your own transportation to and from the event, and you will need to get away from work and/or other commitments- this is your own responsibility.

3)You will be given very detailed instructions before the event to help you plan.

4)If you enjoy the event, you will be given the opportunity to come back, either as a returning member, or as a sponsor.

Secondly, we need you to pass three tests. These tests will help to prepare your mind for the Special Event, and to test your commitment to meeting your sponsor. If you turn down these tests, you will not be able to continue, and you will not be able to attend. If you accept these tests, and pass these tests, you will find things about you will change. Your mind will become more Open. You will realize there is more to life. You will turn a new page. You will be ready for the Special Event. From there, it is up to you.

Your first test is below. The second test will be given to you after you complete the first test and take our easy online survey about your experience.

Test 1) Your Online Faceless Erotic Photograph (FEP): You will take an erotic nude photograph of yourself and email it to this email address (an anonymous email of one of our administrators). You are allowed to crop off your head/face, or otherwise obscure your face to hide your identity. This photograph will be then uploaded to a popular web site where approximately 50,000 people (80% male) will view your photo. To best prepare your mind for the Special Event, we recommend your photo be as explicit as you can manage. You can include toys, lingerie, oils, whatever you wish. We recommend that you enjoy some alcohol, and that you play with yourself for at least 30-60 minutes before you begin your photography, and that you take at least 5 pictures and choose whichever one you feel is best. Remember, 50,000 people will be staring at your picture- some for many long minutes, some may even masturbate while they look at you. Your identity will remain PRIVATE... but absolutely nothing else will. 50,000 people, as if the entire capacity of a major league stadium were walking by you, one at a time, watching you in your most intimate pose, naked for the whole world to see.

After emailing your photograph, it will first be sent to your sponsor, then it will be uploaded as explained above, then the original photograph and the email you sent to us will be deleted. You will be given a link to the site where your photograph is posted. You will be able to see the count of the numbers of people who have viewed your pictures, your rating (a number of stars, from 1-5), and any comments people have typed. In 10 minutes, more people will see your beautiful naked body than in your entire life.

After your photograph is posted, you will receive an email telling you of your next test. If you wish to discontinue this process, you may reply STOP to this email, and you will receive no further communications. Otherwise, reply with an emailed photograph and we will proceed as described above.

Thank you, Melody, for participating.

What on Earth? Melody thought. This is ridiculous. They want an erotic photograph of me? So they can post it on the Internet? That's insane. She had never taken a photograph of herself, much less without clothing, and she wasn't even sure how to do it. Did she hold out a camera pointing at herself? She thought maybe there was a Timer setting on their camera, but she wasn't certain.

She thought then about Him. She remembered the days they were together, as vividly as it were yesterday. Bob had taken pictures of her back then. Many – OK, most – of them were erotic. Many times, they had made love in the parks, in the sun, on the beach or in a grassy park between the thick green pines. Both of them took so many risks- so young and foolish, yet so achingly alive. He had taken photos of her in the sun, her head back, the warm rays coating her body- later in the evenings alone she would smile at the odd slight sunburns she sometimes had, and the bug bites. Small prices. Sometimes he would take photos of her sucking his cock. She would look at the camera with wide, longing eyes, knowing that he would be looking at the picture later and thinking of her. One time he took a photograph of her face after he had pulled his cock out of her mouth and had shown her the picture later, in the bar. In the photograph, a thin trail of his white come had been rolling down her lower lip, and had pooled slightly on her chin. Shocked, she had touched her chin, and it was still there, dry now. He had laughed at her shocked expression, and gently kissed her then. The pointed tip of his tongue then traced her lip, then chin, then danced up to her mouth and they shared a deep, particularly tasty, French kiss.

She remembered Him so well. Everything from his thick brown hair, his winning smile, his laugh, his blue eyes, his strong shoulders. The feeling of his warm cock and the hard rubbery apple of its head in her mouth. She would tickle the contours of the engorged veins on the underside of his shaft with her tongue; she remembered the sound of his urgent moaning as his cock began to quickly pulse then, throbbing as the jets hit the back of her mouth, the sweet taste of him coating her throat like warm cough syrup. She loved sucking his cock.

She wondered if he still had those pictures. What pose would He like now, she wondered?

WAIT! She stopped for a second and thought- Was she really considering this? Did she really believe this whole thing? Why was it all so mysterious? What was this Special Event? Why did she have to pass "three tests"?? What were the other two tests? Who the hell were these people? Was HE really involved? Or was it just a lucky guess? But... and now she re-read the first email... hmmmmm.... they certainly were not mistaken about her, or her identify.

She turned on some music and moved around the house then, sipping her wine as she organized the week's mail, sorted and loaded the laundry. After finishing the dishes, pouring what she realized was her fourth full glass, she realized she was actually going to do this. Right now. Before she lost her nerve.

Around 11pm, Bob still a couple hours away from his predictable, drunken, smoke-smelling return, Melody closed the door to her bedroom. She stumbled a bit, almost spilling her win- she was drunk too, she realized. The room was well lit by many candles. Indian incense filled the air, and slow jazz music drifted in from downstairs. She had her digital camera, and all the props ready for her photography session. For some reason, she covered the oversized skin-color dildo (she had been given as a joke when she had turned 30) with a hand-towel- it's shining pink rubber shaft seemed shocking and obscene, and somehow broke the mood a little bit, at least for now. She had used it only once, a very tight fit and not very erotic. Tonight however, she felt different. Completely naked now, she began by pouring a little oil on her upper chest, and began to rub it into her skin...

She took 10 photographs that night, coming several times in the process. The dildo slid in and out of her wet pussy again and again. It was Him, of course. Her fingertips were his tongue. The dildo was his cock. Her hands on her large tits were His hands.

Realizing the time, then, she picked up and blew out all the candles, showered, then hopped onto the computer. After choosing the picture she thought was the best one, she created the email all ready to send... She heard Bob's car pulling into the driveway! Her mouse hovered again in circles, the pointer circling the SEND button... Now or Never.... *click*

Test Number One- passed.