I'm Dating Our Mailgirl Ch. 13

Joyce did later practically stumble over the four of us still congregated on the floor - five, since Jennifer had joined Ted - in walking around the table and asking David Brent to dance.

Nine turned to me, "Monica, come with me to the ladies room."

"Do you have to pee?"

"No, not really."

"Do you have to poop?"

"No."

"Why do you want to go to the ladies room?"

"I've been perspiring a bit too much and I want to apply the darkener to my areola. And a few people have kissed me and I want to reapply my lip gloss."

"Well, just do it here."

She actually appeared to be embarrassed, but smiled and removed a brush from her clutch and a makeup compact.

"Here, let me help you with that," Terri spoke up. She moved over next to 9 and started removing her nipple dangles. She applied the make up and then admired her work by kissing 9's tit on the area just above where she had applied the makeup. Nine handed her the lip gloss, and before she applied it she gave 9 a passionate kiss. "Let's really smear it." She applied the gloss. "There, now you're all set to go again."

The evening kept going like this. I was amazed to find out how many lesbians worked at Seahawk. Sure I knew about Joyce, Rose, Olivia, I guess now 9 and I fell into that category. But Ms. Taylor was a bit of a revelation. If I was uncertain of her sexual orientation at the beginning of the evening, as the dance went on it became clear. Similarly, Rebecca Howell confirmed the description Joyce had only given me when we constructed the guest list at our Thanksgiving supper that she was a lesbian.

There were a fair number of gay men, also. Roger Collins and Eduardo Perez who I met at the Thanksgiving supper were there as affectionate as ever. There were several other gay couples that I knew from my work on the Gay Pride committee with them.

Around 11:30, the dancers were still going strong. Nine had not missed a single dance. Three women that I only vaguely recognized went up to the band stand. One of them announced, "Alright, everyone, for you entertainment pleasure we are going to sing for you." I'm sure they were drunk. "Maestro, Funkytown, please." The band started playing and the girls started gyrating and, being charitable, singing. "Gotta make a move to a town that's right for me, Town to keep me moving, Keep me grooving with some energy." Right on cue as they sang "energy", the lead singer in the center started to remove the top of her cocktail dress. Of course it couldn't be removed completely, but she squirmed out of the top and lowered it. She threw her bra into the audience. Three guys stationed right in front of the podium mockingly scurried for the bra. I got the impression they were the husbands/significant others of the girls. They were all cheering wildly. As they reached the lyrics, "Gotta move on, Oh, won't you take me to Funkytown," the other two girls joined the one in a mini-striptease. One girl was wearing a full formal evening gown and she had trouble squeezing out of and lowering her top. The third girl had worn a formal pants suit and was more easily able to remove her top.

When they finished the first song, the band immediately went into "Le Freak". "Aaahh freak out! Le freak, c'est Chic, Freak out!" The cocktail dress girl removed and stepped out of her dress. The evening gown girl had a little trouble, but as she reached the words, "Now we freak, oh what a joy, Just come on down," she was completely out of her dress. Pants suit girl joined them.

As they stood there wearing only their underpants, I leaned over to 9, "Do you know who they are?"

Of course 9 was a walking building directory. "Chandra, the Indian girl in the evening gown is in International Relations. The other two are in Marketing." At the end of Le Freak, the band moved to a sexy slow sensuous number, "How Deep is Your Love." They showed the audience how deep their love was as they removed their panties. Chandra had on pants that looked like she had borrowed them from her grandmother. She exposed a bushy black cunt. Cocktail dress girl had something more revealing, and as it came off she revealed a bald pussy. Nightgown girl was, or rather had been, wearing a thong that upon removal exposed a neatly trimmed airstrip. I don't think she was expecting it to be revealed so publicly tonight, but I have no doubt she put a lot of effort into her grooming as she got ready for tonight if for no one else other than her significant other.

I leaned over to 9. "Moe, Larry and Curly." She didn't catch on to my joke and I explained. "Airstrip girl is Moe with her neat little cunt, the bushy one is Larry and the bald one is Curly." She laughed.

At the end of the third number, cocktail dress girl, who I guess now should properly be referred to as Curly, announced, "Thank you, Seahawk, you've been a great audience. We're The Mailgirls and we're here for you entertainment pleasure every night." They collected their three escorts and moved back, still naked, to their table.

Nine, who had been laughing uproariously at this performance suddenly turned sullen, "Monica, did you hear what they said?"

"I was sitting right here. Of course I did."

"They called themselves The Mailgirls! The Mailgirls, Monica."

"Nine, I don't think they meant any disrespect. In fact, I think if was quite a tribute to you and the other mailgirls that they were identifying with you."

"But, I'M the mailgirl. They aren't. That's the one thing I can identify with and now they want to cheapen that title and take it away from me."

"Relax, 9. You're overreacting. You're being much too sensitive. You were enjoying the performance until they said that. Let it go." I wasn't sure she was ready to move on.

The dancing continued and the singers, The Mailgirls, made their way back to the dance floor with their partners. But they were now joined by some other people in various states of undress. I was able to see at least ten naked women, eleven if you want to count 9. Wait a minute that's confusing. You know what I mean; 9 was the eleventh naked person. A few more less daring souls were topless. A couple of dancers stripped down to underpants/thongs, whatever.

I could tell that Joyce was furious that her elegant Christmas party was headed in the direction of becoming an all-out orgy. She address 9 and me. "I hope you're satisfied with yourselves. Look at what you've done." I didn't think we had done anything; if there was anyone to blame, I think the guilty parties were the singers. "We're leaving. NOW."

Nine and I looked at each other. We didn't understand. Why were we leaving? And why should we be leaving with Joyce? In a loud voice, Joyce called to Rebecca, "Come here, please."

Rebecca came over to the table, and Joyce, not so much asked but rather commanded, "Will you take Olivia home?" Olivia was shocked. What was bringing about this seismic change in plans for the night? I'm sure her visions of burying her head in Joyce's crotch and in turn having Joyce's head buried in her crotch were seen fleeing. More than being at Joyce's side during the party, I'm sure this vision was the greater source of pleasure and fantasy fulfillment she had been anticipating all week. Now it was going out the door. Rebecca indicated that of course she and Terri would take her home.

Joyce then returned to hustling 9 and me out the room. We hardly had time to say goodbye to anyone, but since Terri was right there I managed to tell her, "I'll call you. We need to get together." She stood up and kissed me and also 9. I really didn't have a chance to reflect on which of the kisses was the more passionate. A quick tongue in my mouth told me mine was passionate enough. It was met by my tongue tentatively exploring her mouth.

As Joyce rushed us out of the room, 9 started crying. "Monica, I'm scared." This woman who had been a monument of bravery and boldness was suddenly reduced to a frightened child anticipating some form of punishment. Her body trembled and I wrapped my arms around her. We were going to Joyce's home where, because of the night I spent there last night, I was aware of the implements of pain and torture she would have at her disposal. Of course 9 had no idea of what potentially was ahead of her, of us."

Not another word was said the entire journey. Nine was simpering like a frightened child, Joyce and I were in no need of beginning a conversation. The three of us were seated in the back of the car while Jaime drove. Nine was between us so that her flesh was pressed against each of us. I was in no mood to be sexually aroused; I can't speak for Joyce and her thoughts.

We got to the house and we got out of the car. I was still wrapping my arms around 9. Joyce unlocked the door and we entered. I couldn't even begin to imagine what was going to happen next.

TO BE CONTINUED