Post-Pandemic Mardi Gras

The invitation arrived all by itself on Thursday afternoon. And yet, it filled the mailbox. I could tell by the quality of the envelope this was an expensive mailing. With no stamp, no address, and no return address, I wasn't sure how it got into my mailbox, or if it was even supposed to be for me. But, the costly envelope begged to be opened.

Inside was a card. Nothing more.

It stated:

Call this number for further directions.

I can't help but admit I was intrigued. As I walked down the street to my house, I dialed the number. I could always hang up was my most convincing argument.

I didn't get a chance. I heard a ring, then a busy signal.

"No harm done." I said to no one in particular.

Entering the kitchen, I threw the envelope and card in the trash. No sooner had I done so than my phone buzzed several times with text messages.

The first message stated:

Do not try to call this number. We do not answer calls, only specific texts. You will be receiving sensitive information from us. You should keep it private. If you do not wish to receive further messages, reply STOP.

The second message stated:

You will receive an invitation to our Mardi Gras party once the coronavirus pandemic government imposed limitations are lifted. This will occur at a discrete residence. You will be expected to wear a mask and no more than ten other items of clothing total (i.e. socks = 2). The reason for this will be explained at the party.

The final message stated:

It appears you have several weeks to get ready, but be ready to attend as soon as we text again. You should not share this information as we keep tight control on the number of people attending. If you change your mind, simply reply STOP.

Heeding those requirements, I got my Mardi Gras best together. I loved going to New Orleans, often to take part in those Fat Tuesday activities. I've gone alone one time, but the best times have been with my friends. So, I got a nice shirt and tie, a pair of shorts, comfortable sandals, and my 8 year old mask.

Excluding the mask, that equaled 5 items to wear. I'm not sure why they were so specific about number of items worn, but at least I was ready to go. From the looks of this pandemic, I didn't need to be too worried about this party any time soon. I threw the clothes together in my closet, and got back to the daily issues of living in such times.

It was a mere month of stay at home orders, personal quarantines, and gobs of pleasant news every single day. What an asswhip. I'm just glad I didn't go to New Orleans this year. That was a bad place to be.

So, here we go. It's several weeks past the initial scare and extended social-distancing guidelines, and the world seems to be returning to work. Not the big cities, mind you. That's gonna be painful. The text message I forgot was coming did just that.

Here is the address.

Here is the time.

Doors are only open for thirty minutes.

Do not be late.

Don't forget the dresscode.

See you then.

Reply YES or NO

Tomorrow? That's quick. I suddenly felt nervous pangs in my stomach. I won't have my friends with me. I'll be on my own in a new place. Time for a hurricane.

But first, I typed YES into my phone and hit the send button.

Still working from home, I worked voraciously the next day to keep my mind off the coming evening's activities. I decided sometime during the day to add in some thong underwear to help highlight my package. I also decided if this turned into a sausage fest,I would hightail it out of there. The ratio of women had better be very favorable.

Cleaned up, and ready to go, I give myself enough time to arrive and scope out the scene. The address just led to a non-descript industrial park and nothing more. As I pulled up, a group of tuxedo-wearing men approached.

"Put on your mask immediately!" They directed. "Type this address into your phone GPS. You have 25 seconds. If you mis-type, too bad."

I grabbed my mask, typed in the address they were showing on an iPad, and drove off. The map directions came on, and I headed back toward the city-center. This was not some amateur deal.

I arrived about 30 minutes later after navigating downtown. I found myself in front of the original city homes, probably built by a wealthy citizen from back in the day. A dark metal fence surrounded the house, except for an opening into a driveway. Entering it, I found quite a good sized lot for many cars. This property was obviously changed from a residence to some sort of museum or art building. Parking lot attendants stopped us, ushered us out of our cars, and drove our vehicles away for parking.

By us, I am referring to a steady stream of cars into the lot. I followed the people already out of their cars toward the building. Some people take this Mardi Gras stuff very seriously and dressed quite well.

Others like me weren't so serious, but their masks looked like they obviously spent a pretty penny. Still, I wonder how I got this invite.

After ascending the nice marble steps, I stepped into the grandest foyer I have ever seen. There I received a small backpack which I put on my back and again followed the crowd toward a bar. It was time for this Mardi Gras thing to get rolling.

After picking up a drink, I was able to wander. The eye candy was off the charts. A large table was next to a wall. On it were piles of beads. Men grabbed handfuls while the women mostly left them.

It seemed some people knew others, but not a lot. I made some small talk as I wandered. Getting well-lubed is always the goal in NOLA, so why not here? 20 minutes after the doors closed, I could tell the female ratio was definitely in my favor. Some women were already earning beads, and the crowd got louder and louder with each passing minute.

Then an announcement from the DJ when they quieted the music.

"Welcome. Enough small chat. Let's get down to business." They boomed.

"You received a backpack at the door. In it is an envelope with a number inside. This number represents the number of clothing items you will be removing. Just a few things to tell you. First, once you open your envelope, you will group yourselves by your number picked." The voice continued.

I opened my envelope to the accompanying sounds of paper ripping and envelopes being emptied. Inside was a card with a number on it, the number 8.

I held my card above my head so as to be seen, and everyone silently began searching for their number group.

And then it dawned on me. I was about to be completely naked since I have only 7 clothing items to remove. My nerves were about to overcome me, but into my direct line of vision came an impossibly tall, beautiful woman carrying the number 8. Dressed in a long, tight black dress, I feel like I just picked a winning lottery ticket. Her hair falls onto her shoulders, and I can tell her ass is perfectly sized and firm.

I try not to stare, but her eyes catch mine, and she manages a small smile.

"Both of us getting naked?" I say, keeping my distance.

"Uh-huh..." She manages, nervously.

"Ummm, you have nothing to worry about. You look amazing." I flatter her.

"Thanks. It's just that my friends drew 1's, so I'm not sure what they might try." She responds.

"I'll help you get them naked." I reassure her. "Deal?"

"Sure. I'm Val." This beautiful creature now named Val tells me.

"Zoo. This just turned into a fun night." I tell her.

"Zoo?" She inquires.

"Just a nom de plum I use." I reply. "Easy to remember, and it might rhyme with one of my real names."

"Okay. Time to remove those clothes." The loud voice interrupts us. "Just put your clothes into your backpack. An attendant will come by with a marker for you to write your name on your backpack, then your things will be stored safely."

"Well, Val, at least we have our masks. You ready?" I say, trying not to stare.

"Let's roll." She replies.

I have to see this woman naked, and I know she won't perform any thing resembling a striptease with me just staring. So, I look her in the eyes, and begin removing my shirt.

Val keeps her eyes on mine, and reaches behind her dress to unzip it.

"I need your help." She tells me, as she turns around. "I can't reach the top of the zipper."

Violating previously voluntary social-distancing guidelines, I step over to Val and touch her skin just above the zipper, then begin moving the zipper down to her fingers. Touching her was absolutely electric.

Back to my predicament. I shove my shirt into my backpack, then begin removing the rest of my clothing. The shoe and socks, followed by my shorts and underwear come off quickly. My cock jumps to attention.

"Well, dress, or no dress, I see you don't need my help." Val, says smiling as she turns to face me, now completely naked, the small amount of black fabric at her feet.

With her smiling face framed by her long dark hair, I scan Val's delicious brown skin from her shoulders to her feet. A Latina goddess, Val is going to attract a lot of attention. Her breasts are wonderful, mouthfuls of goodness topped with nicely hardened brown nipples.

Suddenly, my surroundings come back into focus. Val and I are not the only naked participants. There is laughing and giggling from around the room. Judging by the amount of skin, this is going to be a very fun couple of hours.

Having put our names on our backpacks, and handing them off to attendants, Val and I scan the crowd. She approaches me, walking up to my right, but still looking behind me. I feel her breath on my neck as she turns her head toward mine.

"Can we stick together for a little bit? I need to get my nerve up." Val asks.

"I won't find a more beautiful woman than you in here. I would love to stick with you. But, if you tire of me, I will understand." I reply, still looking around the room.

"Oh, there's little chance of that. Here comes my friends. Let's see how long it takes them to break us up." Val finishes as I hear the laughter clearly pointed at her.

Honestly, I'm stunned to have this amazing woman next to me. I wrap my right arm around her body, and lead her into an impromptu flamingo dance. We spin ever so slowly toward her friends. One is topless, while the others are wearing lingerie, and all are a delicious sight.

"Hey, Val." One says.

"Hey. Now exactly why did I wear only a dress, and you guys apparently knew to wear more?" Val exclaimed.

"I guess some of us chickened out of the commando challenge." Came the reply with a round of laughter.

"Well, I scored this hot bodyguard for the night. Good luck to you girls." Val tells them, causing me to blush.

Despite my blushing, I manage a smile, and twirl Val away momentarily.

"I have so many questions, but first I need to kiss you." I tell Val.

Coming to a stop, she looks me in the eyes and moves her head toward me. I meet her halfway, and we touch lips. Her lips are simply electric. We part, and continue our dance.

Now, on to those questions...