Dinner for Eight: First Course

Traci held the invitation in her hand and read:

invite you to

A Scripted Dinner.
Saturday, February 22, 8 PM
in their home.
Women
Wear evening attire consisting of
a separate blouse and skirt,
bra and panties,
thigh high hose and shoes.
Jewelry allowed,
but nothing additional.
Men
A tuxedo, please.
Complete with cummerbund,
suspenders, and bow tie,
but no vest.
Note
Servants hired for the evening
have been screened for
the ability to remain discreet.

Traci brushed her strawberry blond bangs away her eyes and read the invitation over again. The hints held between the lines of type piqued her curiosity. Rob and Ann had demonstrated imaginative tastes in the past. Traci hadn't cared for the classical music featured during one such evening, but memories of the later hours of that soiree caused a tingle within her.

A grin slowly spread across her face as she walked to the den. There she placed the invitation on Mark's desk. She would be thinking about February 22 for the next ten days.

By the time those days had passed, Mark had had his tuxedo cleaned, and Traci had chosen a pale pink evening outfit. Though it was cut modestly low across her shoulders, its lacy top clung to the curves of her breasts. The long skirt hugged the swells of her thighs. A slit from ankle to mid-thigh let the skirt flow freely around her trim legs. She wore a strand of pearls at her throat and her pearl drop earrings. She always wore her wedding ring.

She was by the front door getting her coat when Mark came to the top of the stairs. He looked striking in his black tux. Gazing at the fabric fitting closely across his shoulders and chest gave her heart a skip. He wasn't one of those hard-as-a-board men, but she did like the feel of his chest muscles under her hands.

Traci reluctantly pulled her thoughts away from that direction. Enough time for that later this evening, she thought. Mark held her coat for her, slid into his own, and together they walked to the car.

Light spilled from the windows at Ann and Rob's house. Traci liked the spacious cathedral ceiling at the entranceway, though she was glad she didn't have to heat it. Ann greeted them with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Highlights shimmered off her long dark hair.

Rob's white hair shone brightly compared to Ann's dark locks. He shook hands with Mark and gave Traci a token hug. Traci had known the two hosts long enough to understand that Rob's formality now was no indication of his flair for the daring as the evening progressed.

Entering the dining room, Ann introduced Traci and Mark to the other four guests. Looking at the array of people around the table, Traci thought, not for the first time, that Ann and Rob certainly had a diverse collection of friends. Beth and Frank were well into their sixties and quite fit for their age. Ruth and Jim were in their fifties and more rounded in their silhouettes. Traci and Mark were the youngest couple there, still in their thirties.

Ann and Rob were diverse even between the two of them. Rob had just passed his sixtieth birthday, while Ann was in her late forties. But both of them shared a passion for exploring life. Each had eager, blue eyes that flared with interest at the hint of a new idea. Both of them obviously relished the pleasures of food as well, their physiques sharing more in common with pillows than with gym equipment.

After the introductions, each couple sat side by side, one couple on each side of the rectangular table. Ann and Rob were at the head of the table, Mark and Traci to their left, Beth and Frank to their right, and Jim and Ruth sitting opposite their hosts.

Jazz played softly over the sound system. The white linen tablecloth glowed under the flickering of the large candelabras. Counting the silver forks to the left of her plate, Traci deduced a six course meal about to be begin. She unrolled her napkin and placed it in her lap.

The server for the evening, Juan, first passed a tray of tiny rolls among the guests. Their scrumptious taste melted on Traci's tongue. Next, the young man expertly mixed drinks for each diner. The guests voiced compliments on their hosts' selections of both food and service.

Traci didn't care for the pate on the appetizer plate, but the pineapple relish was both unusual and tasty. The shrimp on wafers had a light, tangy sauce on them.

The men kept the conversation on the stock market or sports. Occasionally, Traci caught an amused glance passing between Ann and Beth. Were they just biding their time until more interesting events got started?

Using the stock market as her segue, Ruth told about an entertaining call from a young stockbroker at her job answering a hotline.

"So I tried to explain to him that if he's having sex with his girlfriend, that means she IS sexually active. 'Oh, no,' he says. 'She just lies there. I'm the only one active.'"

When the laughter died down, Rob pinged on his wine glass for their attention. All eyes turned to him, curiosity etched on each face.

"As you all read on your invitations, this is A Scripted Dinner," Rob tipped his head in Ann's direction. That title must have been her idea.

"The script will give a general direction to this evening's activities, but I assure you that there will be abundant opportunity for spontaneity as well."

A small stirring in the quiet room caught Traci's attention. Her gray eyes darted to the source of the movement. Ann, known for her relaxed acceptance, sat fidgeting her fingertips. Traci felt a tingle coil itself within her. These plans caused even Ann to grow nervous?

"As you may remember," Rob continued, "each woman was asked to wear the same kinds of clothing. So each woman now wears the same number of pieces of clothing." Rob quickly glanced at each couple, seeking assurance of their compliance. Traci gulped as she nodded to him. Yes, she had worn just what the invitation stipulated.

At the mention of clothing, Traci found herself growing warm. She hoped a flush was not creeping into visible range up her face, but she doubted her reaction would stay hidden for long. Glancing sideways at Ruth, she saw the blond woman bite at the corner of her mouth. In front of her, Beth's eyes had grown wide. So they suspected something coming, also, didn't they?

"As we have finished the first course of food for our meal, I will now ask the ladies to provide the selection for their first course." Rob paused, causing the tension in the room to leap. Her attention riveted on the host couple, Traci saw Ann clasp her hands together. Traci's breath caught in her throat.

"Ladies," Rob nodded genteelly at each female guest, "please remove your blouses."