Roller Coaster Ride Ch. 04

Chapter 4: Katy's Fantasy: The Christmas Gala

Please read chapters one-three to understand the characters. As previously stated, there are no saints in this story, only sinners. The Gala is fictional, but based very loosely on a story I was told about a couple's initiation into a swingers club.

No sex or sexual situations involving anyone under the age of eighteen.

The Gala is at a party venue about 10 miles out in the country. The wealthy owners are two of the many hosts, and I like both of them. I can't say I know any of the hosts all that well, but I do know they are all well-to-do and powerful in this neck of the woods. The ranch is high fenced, they have exotics as well as white tails, and they have three large tanks stocked with bass and other game fish.

I'm told their riches come from trading with the countries of Eastern Europe freed when the USSR collapsed, and that both have roots and family back there. Natalia and 'Baron' Alexander Pahlen are exotically European, with noticeable accents, carriage and bearing that are not American.

It should be an interesting night, although this kind of shindig ain't really my cup of tea. Katy thanks me for doing this, tells me again how she loved seeing her parents dressed up for the Gala, how she always played dress up and pretended she was there. She looks at me and begs, "Please, please, just let me have this one thing! I REALLY, REALLY want to be a member, which means both of us have to be accepted. So can you do this for me? I'll make it worth your while, I promise!"

Damn, I think - these sorority girls and their dress-up parties! However, the way she looks, and the way I expect the others will look -- yeah, you can pull this off, Tim, and you'll get a great reward. "Okay, I'll do my best" I assure her, "But I'm going to collect on your promise".

We arrive at the front entrance where we find valet parking; they hold our doors open, and the one on the passenger side gets his night made; Katy's exit from the vehicle is elegant, but it's not possible to be entirely modest getting out of a SUV in that dress. I proudly escort her to the door, glance back, and, sure enough, every valet is staring. We are immediately greeted by some of the hosts. Katy is fawned over by the ladies and salivated over by the men, and I get to hear more about her dress.

Fortunately, the server comes by and asks what I'd like; I order for my wife and myself. He tells me he will be back with my Bourbon in a moment, and advises me there is a punch for the ladies that he will bring -- it's a Gala tradition. "Okay," I tell him, "as long as I don't have to drink punch".

I take in the scene: it's a very nice setup. There is a large reception area with hallways leading off to restrooms, conference rooms, other rooms I can't see, the commercial kitchen, and a large hallway to the ballroom in back. Mixed groups are standing around the reception area laughing and talking animatedly.

We were either late or they started early, because it appears everyone has had a few drinks more than I. Music is playing in the background, perhaps coming from the ballroom; it is subtle but insistent, and I discern quite a mix of tunes and genres. I look around for my wife, who is being escorted to another group of people I recognize as locals but whom I don't really know.

I feel an arm around my shoulders and get a big hug from the side: its Katy's uncle, a bear of a man around 55 years old. He's a former college football player and we get along well, in spite of him being, shall we say, a bit eccentric. He has a beautiful wife and five beautiful daughters, none of whom can play fullback as he hoped his offspring would.

We are facing Katy, who is in a swirl of humanity, being complimented, touched, cheek-kissed, and who is clearly enjoying being the center of attention. "Welcome to the club, Tim. Now you know how your father-in-law and I have felt all these years trying to keep beautiful wives and daughters from the clutches of men -- men like you!"

He guffaws, clasps me again, warns me to keep a close eye on her tonight, and don't overindulge! He wanders off. I survey the room, wondering who all gets invited to these shindigs.

My uninformed prior impression was largely correct: movers and shakers are here to see and be seen, impress the other big-money people, network with associates, and make new connections. I'm somewhat surprised to see that some are from surrounding towns, but shocked to see several couples around our age.

Those include Sandy and her hubby, Bobby, who is an up-and-coming race horse breeder and trainer; Janet and Chris Curtis; and Evie and her husband, Darrell, who is a mountain of a man. A very successful consultant of some kind, he's at least 6 ft. 6 inches tall, maybe 280 lbs., and even in the dark suit l I can tell is that he is very well built and not fat. I also notice sexy Jennie and her husband, Mike, who is Katy's principal. A former college basketball player, he's another big guy.

Freddy, a bank VP and the son of the President, shakes my hand, calls his pretty wife Linda over to be introduced, and we begin to learn about one another. TJ, the former Rice University football captain and rising star in the insurance field, and his chesty wife, Cindy, join us. We engage in what is actually an interesting conversation; all are well spoken, well informed, intelligent, and have a sense of humor. Hell, this isn't so bad after all!

My glittery wife deigns to join me after spending the better part of an hour being fawned over, and several members of her entourage come with her.

After a quarter hour or so the group around us has become amorphous, with couples coming and going. Katy's dress shop owner, Joyce, and her current beau, Jim Bob, have been with us for a while. Joyce, who looks pretty delectable herself in a little black dress, nonchalantly asks what I think of Katy's dress.

I laugh, as do all the others in our group, and reply, "Oh, I guess it'll do. Question, Joyce: wherever does one even find such a dress?"

Joyce beams with pride: "She and I found it in a catalog and special ordered it. It needed a little bit of alteration due to your wife's 'unusual assets', but my seamstress got it done just in time. I take it you like it?" and gestures toward my wife, who is standing sideways to us about 20 feet away; her assets indeed are well displayed.

Everyone in the group looks, and the guys gape. "Yes, Joyce, I do like it, and I'm pretty sure you can get consensus on that, at least from the men at the party." Agreement from men and women alike, and comments on what a pretty dress and great fit from the ladies. Joyce continues beaming with pride.

Katy notices us looking her way, so she breaks away and comes over to rejoin us. "My ears were burning. What were y'all talking about?" she asks innocently.

"Sugar wouldn't melt in your mouth would it, Sweetheart? Yes, we were talking about you; we were discussing your unassuming dress and how Joyce had to let it out to better hide your figure" I joke.

Everyone laughs, including Katy: "I just want you to notice me, Honey. It's Christmas, so we thought a little glitter would catch your eye." More laughter; you can tell she's really in her element with the crowd, the music swirling in the background, the drinks, the admiring looks and words.

The head server goes around the reception area advising everyone the meal is ready to be served in the Ballroom, so everyone moves that way. I'm not sure of the seating protocol, but as soon as we enter Freddy and Linda steer us over to seats at their table, with TJ, Cindy, Jim Bob, and Joyce. Good deal -- these are folks I like!

Conversation resumes, and I find I have a perfect view of the ballroom. One thing is now clear to me: you don't have to be rich to be here, but you have to be attractive. Beautiful women with fit men abound; in fact, there are no other kinds.

Well, that's an interesting criterion for membership in a social club...

After a nice meal and a few more drinks (how many have I had now, I wonder, including the three at home? Way more hard liquor than normal for me, for sure), the owner/host speaks. He thanks all of us for coming, hopes we've enjoyed the Gala and will come again, informs us the party ends after the meal, but we are welcome to stay and dance as long as we like.

I'm ready to bail, but Freddy says, "That is just to give the old folks and wet blankets a chance to escape; the real 'party crowd' is just getting started, and so is the fun!"

I remind Katy that we have a 200-mile trip south to see my parents tomorrow, so we can't close the place down. I get Psssaaww'd and called a party pooper and old fart.

"Just saying" I respond. "Or maybe Katy will drive and I can nap." More laughter from everyone, and I can see the crowd thinning quickly. Sure enough, in 10 minutes the crowd is younger and happier, and people are starting to dance. I'm still mulling leaving when TJ leans in and says, "I'm not supposed to say anything, but the four couples invited for the first time are expected to stay until after their 'initiation', which happens at mid-night."

I nod and think 'Initiation?' WTF?

Katy grabs my arm for Paint it Black by the Stones, and I serve as her prop while she dances like a demon, with a rapt audience, I might add. The DJ shifts 180 degrees to Amarillo by Morning, and the dance floor gets crowded as I steer my shiny ornament around the floor. I'm being discreet, but I pull her onto my leg when I can and press my chest against hers when I can; might as well get the foreplay started.

She's seems as responsive to my efforts as she is to my lead, but her body language says she is very aware of her surroundings, the setting, and the guests at the Gala.

A stupid disco song comes on; I don't disco, so we start back. Freddy, who seemingly thinks he's John Travolta, intercepts us with a flourish. He and Katy are busy flash dancing, which includes some minor flashing by my modest wife in her modest dress.

His wife, Linda, moves beside me, puts her hand on my leg, and says she doesn't do disco either. We're apparently the fuddy-duddies, because the floor is full of people acting the fool and dancing badly; except Katy, of course, who could dance to Beethoven and make it look sexy.

I lean back in my chair, take a long drink, and almost spill it when Linda's little hand creeps up my pants and rubs my cock. Yes, it's under the tablecloth, but still -- that's forward!

She's innocently watching the dancers while she strokes my cock through my pants. She turns her head to me and, with an entirely innocent look says "Very, very nice. You are the perfect package, aren't you? Big, strong, handsome man, impeccable manners, charming and witty, and with a perfect package down here; are you as good in bed as you look?"

"You'd have to ask my wife, darling. I don't brag," I answer humbly. She squeezes my cock, bats her eyes, and says she doesn't need to ask, she can always tell. I look down the deep V of her white dress at the creamy orbs barely contained in a tiny lace bra. Very nice!

The song ends, and the dancers start back, only to falter as another slow ballad starts. They break up the partners, and Katy ends up with TJ.

Linda says, "Think you can dance with that big thing hard like that?"

"That this big thing is hard is entirely your doing," I reply.

"I'll help hide it until we're on the dance floor," she says as she stands and tugs on my hand; I reluctantly accede, trying to make sure I don't exhibit the tent in my pants to the crowd. She keeps me close behind her, and swirls into my arms, so I think, maybe, we went unnoticed.

Glancing around at those still seated, I see sexy Jennie grinning at me; she winks. I wink back, and focus on my partner, who is making sure her belly gets to feel my cock. "Linda, is your husband going to okay with how close we're dancing? I can't actually see him, or my wife, but I need to know if I should keep my head on a swivel."

She laughs "I'm not sure we can get as close as he was holding your wife earlier, because there's a big impediment between us that he doesn't have. But, no, he's cool with whatever I do. And I'm cool with whatever he does." She leans back to look in my eyes as she says that, pressing her belly tightly against me.

Soooo, at least one couple here is swingers, which means others are also. Are they all? Have we been invited to join a swingers' club? Join in an orgy? Alternatively, are these just beautiful women flirting with handsome men in an event full of both? Too confusing to my alcohol addled, oxygen deprived brain.

The song ends, but another slow song starts, so she pulls me back against her and we continue. I notice Katy is now dancing with her principal, Mike; Jennie is dancing with TJ.

Linda continues to push herself against my cock throughout the dance, and I'm having trouble keeping time. I consider how I'm going to get this thing under control with the constant manipulation by the pretty blonde, and how I'm going to get her back to the table without alerting the entire population about my condition. Linda is ready; as the song ends she pulls me tightly behind her as cover, and leads me back to the table.

Joyce and Cindy are already there, and they smile knowingly at me as I take my seat across from them. "Where are the guys?" I ask. "They went to the little boys' room, I think. And your wife went toward the little girls' room" Cindy tells me.

Linda sees someone from another town that she wants to talk to; she hops up, tells the girls to take good care of me, and flits off.

I watch her go, admiring her long straight blonde hair, cute butt below a narrow waist, and pretty legs exposing themselves through the slits in her long gown.

I look back at my tablemates: Cindy and Joyce smile coyly and Joyce asks if there is anything I need, in a most inviting voice. I reply that I could use another drink, but otherwise I'm fine.

"Are you sure?" asks Cindy "You look kind of tense."

"No, I don't think there is anything you can do to relieve my tension right now and right here," I reply flirtingly. They laugh, tell me to let them know, and begin chatting.

I assumed they were taken, so I hadn't really looked them over well. Now I take a closer look at both as they animatedly chat. Cindy is a very pretty brunette, wavy hair cut short, with a curvy body below huge boobs. She's wearing a long gown that follows her curves well, and the scoop neck displays her best assets enticingly.

Joyce is striking, with coal black hair, a Mediterranean complexion, a slender figure, and angular good looks. She's wearing a form-fitting dress that displays a nice round butt and jutting boobs despite her slimness; her slender legs are also very nice.

My eyes survey the ballroom and hallways. Indeed, those remaining are unanimously attractive, whatever your tastes. I've learned that there are eight female and eight male committee members that make decisions about the Gala, but I have no idea who they are. They choose the new invitees in addition to planning and executing the party. As I eyeball the room I consider the possibilities.

Suddenly I feel a foot slide up my left leg. My eyes fly back to my tablemates, who are looking at me like a cat looks at a canary, smiles on their faces, and honey in their mouths.

Cindy asks "Are you sure we can't do something for you? We're getting bored just talking to each other."

It's her foot under my pants leg, so I ask her to dance. The DJ has read the room and time correctly, so the preponderance of music is for slow dancing, and the dance floor is crowded. Cindy is close enough to feel her heat, but keeping a decent distance, perhaps because her husband is on the floor again with another of the new invitees, Janet.

I admire Janet's blonde good looks and shape, and think back to when she assisted me with a transaction at the courthouse; yes, I would, and in a heartbeat! Knockout body and looks, and obvious naiveté; she's too cute to for any man to ignore.

We work away from TJ, or he works away from us, and I feel Cindy's big boobs rubbing on me. I look down into the valley, then into her big brown eyes: "Those beauties are real, aren't they! Wow! Sorry if I drool on them, but they make my mouth water."

She smiles fetchingly, rubs them against me, and answers "Yes, they are real, and, unlike some of the guests, so is the rest of me."

I figure I might as well go for it: "I love the curve of your hip onto your delectable butt too, but it's hard to stop looking at those light brown aureoles and hard nipples atop those small mountains. Ummmm. Want to slip outside?" She giggles and turns blushes cutely.

"Getting aggressive with me already? Kind of early, isn't it?" she queries quietly.

"I wasn't the one with my foot on your leg, was I? So who started this?" I joke back.

She looks pensive: "I'm too damn attracted to you to keep this charming repartee up, I'm afraid. I might do something I'll regret."

I tell her I understand, but she's going to help me get back to the table without alarming the hosts with my hard on. "Just keep it up against my big butt" she laughs, and leads me back.

Joyce stands as we return, says "My turn", and takes me back to the dance floor, kindly keeping my cock tucked against her tush as we make our way into the crowd. Damn women -- I'm going to have blue balls before the party even ends!

Although she's with someone, she's single, so she isn't afraid to put her body against me. Feels so good, but my cock and balls need some relief. I try some sleight of hand, moving just barely away: "So, I guess I owe you profound thanks. Your little dress fitting with Katy certainly turned out well, at least for me. Should I even ask how you two got on the topic of 'three-holers'?"

She gives a heartfelt laugh, and warns me to be careful what I ask for.

I laugh, we dance, she moves up against me with her lovely body, and says, "If I'd known what I was advocating she insert in her little back door I might have advised against it. You need to keep that thing where it was designed to go."

"Hey, you're supposedly a 3-hole ho; you could take it in all 3, right?" I parry.

"I'll admit I'd like to try, but I'd need a lot of prep. You aren't a casual bend-me-over-and-do-my-ass guy. Lube and more lube, some stretching, more lube, and finally, maybe..." she says quietly, looking me right in the eye. I turn her butt to the wall so no one can see me squeeze it hard with my right hand.

She shuts her eyes briefly and moans quietly. "I'm going to have even better dreams about you now, because I know now that you are the real thing -- as good as you look and even bigger than I hoped!"

I pull her as tightly against me as I can while turning her, and she sighs. The song ends, she pulls me against her butt as she leads me back to the table. This time Cindy is smiling knowingly, and she tells Joyce they should go to the little girls' room.

I take a seat, take a big drink, wave at the server, and he goes to get me another. I'd be drunk already, but I'm so horny my sobriety isn't an issue, yet.

I openly survey the ballroom, eyes stopping to admire the beautiful people as they move from group to group. Sandy looks totally luscious, as well as a bit drunk, or very excited; her cowboy looks drunk, very excited, and concerned.

Evie and her hubby look completely at home, basking in the glow. Damn he's big, and damn she's built. There are only three black couples here, and all six are beautiful people, like the rest of the crowd. I have no idea who the other four are, but they fit in well as they move around from table to table and group to group.

I don't see sweet Janet and Chris for a few minutes, but spot them in a far corner, surrounded by people. Everyone except Janet seems to be having a great time; she still looks intimidated, with a forced smile. They are the unexpected couple at initiation.