Mystery Invitation to a Reunion

The invitation said to be at a certain private club in Key West three weeks from this Saturday, to come alone, and to wear loose-fitting clothes and flip-flops. Included was a key code to enter the club at a specified time. Nothing else.

What to make of this? No return address on the envelope, not even a name. For the next three weeks I agonized over what this could be about, trying to think if I knew anyone in Key West—nobody. Had any acquaintance ever mentioned that city?—nope. As time got close, my mind was filled with intrigue. Finally the day came. I flew down early in the day to get familiar with the town, checked into a small B&B, then waited anxiously as the time to show up got near.

Approaching the club, I noticed several other men heading the same way. Nearing the entrance, I joined a small crowd, all guys, waiting to show their pass code to the doorman. While waiting to get to the front of the line, I asked the fellows around me if they knew what this was all about, and nobody seemed to know. But all were curious enough to come and find out.

Once inside, I could see that this was an upscale private venue, somewhat like a small banquet room. Comfortable lounging furniture, a well-stocked bar, tasteful paintings on some of the walls, but no windows. Softly lit, with muted classical music just at the threshold of hearing. One long wall seemed to have several dozen 3x5 cards pinned up in a single horizontal row at eye-level, except that occasionally there were two or more cards arranged vertically at that position in the line. Looking more closely, I saw that each card had a name written in an attractive cursive long-hand. A very few of the cards, mostly at the left-hand side of the row, had black borders around them. Some others, all along the row, had a box checked in the upper left corner, and all had an unchecked box in the upper right. Of course, I started searching for my own name, and eventually found it about two thirds along the line from left to right, as one of three cards placed vertically at that position. I recognized one of the other two cards with mine, and also a few of the names to the right and left. But the other names along the line were complete mysteries.

So, I still had no idea what this was about. Milling around among the other men, I recognized one of the guys whose name I’d seen on a card close to mine. I asked him if he had a clue as to why we were here. Comparing life stories, we realized the only thing he and I had in common was that years ago we had both known a certain woman. He spotted a guy he knew but I didn’t, and we verified that he also had known this same woman. The three of us walked over to the cards, trying together to make some sense of this. Getting there, we each spotted other men who were discovering their own cards near ours. This expanded the data base a bit.

Now we were getting somewhere! Comparing notes, we figured out that our cards were in the chronological order we had known this one woman at various times in the past. Apparently, this was some sort of reunion, but of men who didn’t really know each other but had one thing in common. But where was the one person who tied us all together?

At just about that time, a hush fell over the crowd, and all eyes turned toward a raised platform at the rear of the room. There she was! Dressed elegantly in an attractive short black cocktail dress scooped wide and low in the front, the tops of her breasts magnificently displayed, heels, hair in a twist, tasteful jewelry, and the only woman in the room! In spite of the intervening years, I immediately recognized her from her smile, sparkling eyes, and her elegant posture. She was the same person I’d known years earlier, but with the added demeanor and dignity that come only from aging well. I calculated that she was now in her mid forties, and was looking really good! Along with every other man in the room, I was spellbound.

She now welcomed us, thanked us for coming, and gave us an idea of what to expect for the rest of the evening. We were to avail ourselves of the open bar, make new friends, renew old friendships, and that she’d be around to spend some time with each one of us. She stepped down off the platform and began circulating, heading first to one particular guy she had spotted during her introduction. Guys around me started murmuring that his was one of the first cards on the far left. The two of them disappeared for a while, then returned and she went over to that guy’s card and checked the box on the right, then sought out the guy whose card was next. She did this several times, each time taking a particular guy aside, returning, checking off the box on his card, working her way from left to right along the line of cards.

By now, I and the guy I already knew, with some help from others, were figuring things out. True, the cards were arranged chronologically, but we deduced that to be on a card you had to have had sexual relations with her, not just known her. In other words, every one of us had slept with her! Someone told us the black-bordered cards represented men who had passed away, a check mark in the left-hand box meant you had accepted the invitation to be here, and she seemed to be checking off the right-hand boxes as she returned each guy to the crowd after taking him aside. The occasional cluster of vertically-arranged cards represented times in her past when she had been seeing more than one of us at a time; the largest vertical stack was six. (I was in a stack of three: at the time, I had known about one but not about the other one.)

Now that we could decode the cards, we were amazed to count 83 total. Five men were deceased, fourteen did not have the left-hand box checked, meaning they hadn’t accepted the invitation, which left sixty-four who would be here. That matched my estimate of the number I could see just by looking around. Sixty-four of us, and she was going to find time to be with each one! Just enough time for a quick chat, to catch up on old times, find out how we were doing, maybe some small talk about family, kids, and such.

Boy was I wrong! She was not taking us aside for a personal chat. The check marks she was entering on the right-hand box meant a lot more than that! I started noticing that as each guy was returned to the crowd, he appeared a little disheveled, but very happy. I watched a little more closely as she took each fellow aside. She would take him over to an unlit corner of the room, where you could just make out a large raised futon. Once there, she lifted that elegant cocktail dress over her head, and lay down on the futon. I realized now that she wore nothing under it, and the deep, wide scoop neck made it easy to slip on and off over her head. Then, she pulled her guest down and into her bare body. Now I understood why we’d been instructed to wear loose clothing!

Turned out that as she took each guy back to rejoin the crowd, she asked him to not say what the private meeting had been about, so the next guy would be surprised. Well, if I was able to figure out what was going on, you can bet everyone else did, too. So, before long, everyone knew what was going on in that dark corner. Another hint was that she smelled pleasantly of sex each time she came back into the crowd, and the insides of her legs were very shiny. And once, about halfway through the sixty-four, she completely forgot to put her dress back on and came out naked. I don’t think she realized it until she got back to the futon and saw her dress still there. After that, she just stayed naked, but did slip her heels back on each time, because of some spilled drinks on the floor.

She was spending about five minutes with each one, which would take at least five hours. I was toward the end, so when my turn came, I had the honor of this classy middle-aged woman, nude except for high heels, come up to me in a room crowded with fully dressed men, and invite me to spend a few minutes alone with her. On our way to the darkened corner, we did catch up on each other’s lives, and how nice it was to meet up after all these years. Once there, I quickly got out of my clothes and enjoyed her once again, reveling in the comfort of her familiar flesh. I took this opportunity to say how much I admired her bravery in arranging this event, and that I felt honored to be here. She told me that some women have big brothers to watch out for them, but better yet, she had several dozen dedicated men who would do anything for her.

Well, she had more entertaining to do, so she walked me back and left with the next one, leaving me to admire her bare backside as she led him to the futon.

It took her a little over five hours to work her way through all sixty-four of us. She didn’t get tired; I think she renewed her energy with each encounter. By the end of the evening, after checking the last of the right-hand boxes, she was glowing. Radiant in her nakedness, she stepped up onto the raised platform again. She told us that even though there were a lot of us there, she had remembered her favorite position with each of us, and had used those positions on the futon. She then thanked all of us for coming and for helping her come so many times that evening and for giving her a lifetime of coming.