The Girl's Club

I ran into my friend Gina at the mall the other day. Gina divorced her husband of 23 years after she caught him sleeping with a college student half his age. I felt bad for her because I went through a similar thing a few years ago with my husband after 20 years of marriage. In my case, it involved his secretary. Luckily for both of us, we made out well in the divorce.

"Liz," she said. "How are you?"

After we exchanged pleasantries and dished on our unfaithful ex-husbands, she spoke in a low confidential voice. "We really have to get together. I throw these parties on Saturday nights every couple of months. You might enjoy it."

Two of my other friends, Wendy and Sharon, had already given me a head's up about Gina's latest enterprise. According to them, Gina hosted an all-girls event at her house and hired male strippers to work as waiters and bartenders. Word was out that Gina's parties were the hot ticket for the cougar crowd. Wendy described the men as being of the 20 to 30 age variety and unbelievably gorgeous. The girls pressed me to go if I got the opportunity since I was now single and free. The idea of men stripping for a bunch of drunk women sounded cheesy to me. Nevertheless, I was intrigued when Gina brought it up.

"Actually, I've heard a little about it," I told her.

"Really?" Gina said. "Do tell."

After I explained what I knew, Gina looked at me with a sly smile. "I'm not going to say another thing. I think you should come and see for yourself."

I tried to beg off, saying it wasn't my thing. But she insisted, and I promised to show up for her next party. As we said goodbye Gina said "and make sure you wear something sexy."

I arrived around 9:00 p.m. the following Saturday night. Gina's home is in the tony Hancock Park area of L.A. Her ex-husband was and still is a very prominent attorney in a downtown law firm and left her a bundle, including the house. I'm not sure exactly what I expected, but I was not prepared for what happened when I arrived.

It was a balmy summer night in August. As I drove up the long circular drive to the entryway, a handsome, dark-haired boy, no more than 20, greeted me. He was bare-chested, lean and muscular, like a Greek god. He wore a black bow-tie, white cuffs with cuff links and tight slacks. He helped me out of the car and closed the door behind me. Cars, mainly BMWs and Mercedes, were already parked around the house. I stood for a moment, collecting myself, my heart beating rapidly. I was already aroused and had only met the valet.

I walked up the short flight of granite steps to the front door and heard music playing inside. The door was ajar, so I pushed it open and entered. Beyond the foyer, a crowd of women stood in the living room sipping wine and cocktails and talking amongst themselves. They appeared to be in their mid 40s to late 50s and were dressed in short dresses, plunging tops and heels. By comparison, I looked conservative in a tight white blouse, black slacks and pumps.

Across the living room a set of french doors opened to the backyard where another group of women socialized. At first, the only men I could see were two cocktail waiters who were shirtless and well-honed like the valet I had met out front. They circulated through the crowd, drawing the admiration of the women as they walked by. Electricity was in the air. I was nervous being a new-comer and not knowing what to expect I realized I desperately needed a drink.

One of the waiters must have sensed my dilemma and headed toward me. Unlike the valet who wore black slacks, the waiter wore skin tight white spandex shorts that hugged his hips and thighs. What was not apparent at first as he milled through the crowd was the fact that the crotch of his pants had been removed which allowed his manhood to hang free. He must have seen my eyes bug in my head as he approached.

"Good evening, ma'am," he said as he approached, pretending to be oblivious to the effect he was having on me. My face must have turned five shades of red. He was extremely good looking and young enough to be my son.

"Hello," I said, blinking and looking around the room.

"Can I get you something to drink?" he said in a smooth, even voice. "White wine?"

"White wine would be wonderful," I said, practically choking.

"Coming right up," he said. I stared in disbelief as he turned and walked away.

"Gorgeous, isn't he," I heard a voice behind me say.

I turned and saw Gina smiling. "Justin is one of our new boys. He's very impressive, as I'm sure you noticed."

"Oh, my God," I said. "I thought I was going to die. I had no idea."

"Welcome to the Girl's Club," she said with a laugh. "It takes a little getting used to." She grasped my arm and shepherded me through the room.

"I'm not sure if I'm ready after that," I said. "I definitely need a drink."

Gina escorted me through the living room past friends who complimented her on the party. We stepped out onto the back patio which was lit with twinkling lights. A large heated pool with underwater lighting spread out in front of us creating a magical glow Gina walked toward a group of women who were talking with one of the waiters, a tall, deeply tanned man, with wavy black hair and a beautiful physique.

"Marco," Gina said. "I'd like you to meet my friend Liz."

The young man turned toward me and presented a dazzling smile. Like the other waiter, he was shirtless and wore the same revealing skin tight white shorts. I hesitated to let my glance dip below his neckline. "Hello, Liz," he said, his brooding dark eyes locked on mine. He put out his hand.

"Hello," I said, in a near whisper,. I shook his hand feeling the blood pulsing in my neck. My eyes strayed for a split second, long enough to see that he too was hanging naked and unencumbered. I felt my head going light. I had never seen an uncircumcised man in person and definitely not that close.

Gina put her arm around my waist and drew herself closer to me. "Ladies, this is Liz," she said, nodding at me. The women all spoke at once and shook my hand. "Liz is new to our little soirees. She is part of our jilted sisterhood. Her faithless husband left her as well." The women all hissed and then laughed.

"Bastard," she went on. "But her loss is our gain. There is such a thing as sweet revenge. Do you know what I call my little party?" Gina said, looking at me.

"No," I said, uncomfortable at being put on the spot. The moment was interrupted when Justin arrived with a glass of white wine and handed it to me. "Thank you," I said, grateful for the diversion and careful to avert my eyes. I gulped the wine, hoping it would steady my jolted nerves.

Justin started to leave when Gina grabbed him. "Get that cute little ass of yours over here." She let go of me and put her arm around his waist and stood between the two men. "It's called Gina's 8 Plus Club, where the men are all eights or better." With that she looked down at each of the men's crotches.

The women began hooting and hollering.

"But, but," Gina said, waving her hand to silence the women. "We always have room for nines and tens."

"Or eleven and twelves!" several women shouted.

"Oh, you girls. You're all getting spoiled," Gina said, admonishing. She turned to me. "Welcome and enjoy." With that she patted the men on their tushes and walked back to the house.

I sat down on a lounge chair near the pool, happy to let the group disperse, so I could sip my wine. An attractive blond woman in her early 40s sat down next to me.

"Hell of a way to grieve over your husband's betrayal," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Jeez," I said. "Is this really happening?"

"First time?" she asked, sensing my confusion.

"Yes," I said, nodding.

"I'm Karen," she said, extending her hand.

"Liz," I replied, shaking it.

"As a marketing director, I applaud Gina for identifying an under-served demographic. Here's to horny middle-aged women." She clinked her glass against mine.

"So how many of these have you been to?" I asked.

"Third time," Karen said, sipping her wine. "Honestly, I wasn't sure at first. But, I never get tired of looking at gorgeous naked men."

My head was still swimming from the memory of full frontal nudity being paraded openly when I noticed a tall, muscular black man circulating among the women across the pool. He had skin the color of swiss moca, a huge chest and broad shoulders. I felt an instantaneous surge between my legs as soon as I saw him. His powerful round bottom flexed as he walked and when he turned I could see he was wearing the same tight crotchless pants as the other men. The women smiled as he passed by, making no attempt to hide their appreciation.

"Jesus," I said under my breath, taking a deep swallow, feeling the color once again rising in my face. I was happy to be sitting down as I felt the lower half of my body grow weak.

"Honey," Karen said, patting my knee reassuringly, "this is one of those moments that makes you glad you're alive. Be prepared to witness one of the seven wonders of the world."

The waiter turned the corner of the pool and walked slowly toward us, like some sleek, exotic animal, displaying the most impressive male appendage I had ever seen. The site of his naked body ignited a primal reaction in me that I had never felt before.

"Ladies," he said in a deepo, silky smooth voice as he stopped and stood before us. "How are we doing tonight?"

"We are fantastic," Karen said. "And you? How are you doing?"

"I'm doing great," he said with a smile. "What can I get you?"

"I would like another glass of chardonnay," Karen said, draining her glass and handing it to him, "and my friend would like to know exactly how big that thing gets when it's hard. Oops!" she said, seeing my face redden and covering her mouth with her hand. "My bad."

I was ready to faint from embarrassment.

"No need to apologize," he said extending his hand toward me. "Eleven by eight, the last time I checked."

"You have an amazing body," I said, feeling woozy as my hand disappeared in his grip.

"Thank you," he said. "that's nice of you to say. What can I get you?"

"I'll have a glass of Chardonnay as well."

"Two Chardonnays," he said. "I'll be back in just a minute."

He left like he arrived – walking catlike - the muscular cheeks of his ass flexing under the thin fabric.

"Jesus," I said when he was far enough away from earshot. "Is that humanly possible?"

"Amazing to think he can walk with that thing."

"I'm not sure how much more I can take.."

"Honey," Karen said. "Things are just warming up."

"What does that mean?" I said, feeling apprehensive.

"Didn't Gina tell you?" she said.

"No," I replied, my pulse racing.

"Well," she said, "I don't want to spoil it for you."

"If it's some kind of orgy or something I really need to know, because I don't think I can handle much more."

"Well, it's not like that exactly" Karen said.

"Come on," I said firmly. "'I don't want my face showing up in some line up when the police arrive to arrest everyone."

"Relax," she said patting my hand. "Nothing like that is going to happen. If you're really uncomfortable you can leave anytime. Nobody's forcing you to do anything. But I would recommend you stick around for just a while longer."

Our waiter showed up several minutes later, handing us our glasses of Chardonnay. Karen waited until he was out of earshot. "You don't really want to miss that, do you?" she said as she got up. She toasted me with a sly smile and walked toward Gina's living room..

From inside the house, I heard music and women's voices rising and falling, shrieking and laughing. I was teetering on the edge of leaving, but the site of the waiter's naked flesh had rekindled my curiousity. I decided to check out the party inside. As I reached the sliding glass doors, Gina met me at the threshold.

"I was just coming to get you" she said. "You're missing all the fun. The best part is just starting."

Inside the living room the men were standing side by side in the center of the room. The women crowded the perimeter clutching their drinks and admiring the view. Apparently, some sort of game was in progress because the women were stepping forward one by one to draw from a deck of cards being held by one of the women who stood near the men.

"It's a little match game we like to play," Gina said.

I was confused at first by the noise and commotion, but I quickly realized what was going on. Each of the men had a playing card strategically pinned to the waistband of their spandex pants and the women were taking turns competing for them by drawing a matching card of the same rank and color. I wasn't exactly sure what the ultimate prize entailed, but I had a pretty good idea. Just then, a roar went up from the girls as one of the women drew a red King, the King of Hearts. She held the card overhead, doing a little dance. A blond-haired man who wore the other red king, the King of Diamonds, beckoned her with his finger.

"Oh, my God," she said, pumping her fists in the air enthusiastically. She covered her face as she approached him. He put his arm around her and pulled her toward him.

The same scenario repeated itself over the ensuing minutes. I watched middle-aged women devolve into a mass of sex-starved animals, cat-calling and behaving like a bunch of teenagers at a sorority keg-fest. At one point one woman dropped to her knees in front of her male conquest and proceeded to minister to him orally to the raucous urging of the other women. I had never seen anything like it before. Despite my misgivings I could not help but watch. I scolded myself for succumbing to cheap debauchery, but the men were all beautiful specimens with gorgeous bodies, and it was hard not to stare in appreciation at their sculpted physiques, particularly with what else was on display.

The last of the six men was claimed by the woman immediately to my left who fittingly drew the Ace of Spades. Her prize was the black waiter who had drawn my attention at the pool. I felt a simultaneous wave of relief and stab of disappointment that the game had ended without my participation. As the lucky women huddled with their male partners, I drained the last of my wine and started to walk away when Gina motioned toward me.

"It's your turn to draw, Liz," she said.

"But the game is over," I said.

Gina smiled. "Not yet. There's still one card that nobody's drawn."

I was puzzled, unsure what was going on. I realized that all eyes were upon me. Then the voices started chanting my name.

"Liz, Liz, Liz, Liz!"

I felt a surge of excitement mixed with dread.

"Nobody's drawn the wild card," Gina shouted over the din. "There are only two cards left and you're the last person to draw. Fifty fifty odds," she said with a smile, pushing me toward the front as the women continued to chant.

Maybe it was the wine, but I was still in a daze as I stepped forward and drew the final card of the night.

It was just after 9:00 a.m. on Monday morning when my friend Sharon's name popped up on my caller ID at work. I knew it was only a matter of time before she called to get the low-down on Saturday night.

"Oh, my God," she said. "I heard what happened. You have to give me all the details."

Her comment caught me off guard. Exactly how much did she know? I decided to play dumb.

"Well, you know," I said as I got up from my desk to close the door to my office so my eaves-dropping assistant, Julie, couldn't hear our conversation. "It was a little bit crazy."

"Yes, and..."

"There were all these gorgeous guys walking around with nothing on. I mean, not even a G-string. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I wasn't ready for that. Everything was right there for you to look at."

"That must have been incredible. So, what else?" she said, unsatisfied with my account. "I heard you played a game where they auctioned the men to highest bidder."

I wasn't sure where she was getting her information, but I felt like I needed to set the record straight. "It wasn't exactly an auction," I said, explaining at length how the card drawing process worked.

"So..." she said, allowing a pause hanging in the air. "I heard you won."

I felt the color rise in my cheeks. "Really," I said, "You heard that?"

"Yep."

"Who told you that?" I said, flustered.

"I have confidential sources."

I had worried from the beginning about that night and knew that sooner or later the news was bound to get out. So much for my carefully guarded reputation.

"Wow," I said. "News travels fast."

"Mmmmm," she purred, clearly delighting in my discomfort. "Let's see. I hear he was tall, dark and extremely well-equipped."

"He was nice. But just to set the record straight nothing really happened."

"Tell the truth, girfriend. I heard you got down and dirty."

"We had some drinks. We messed around a little. That's all."

"Funny. I heard you spent the night," she said.

"Jesus," I said. "Has this been broadcast all over town?"

"Calm down," she said. "This is what I heard. There were six, beautiful, gorgeous men there, and you drew the lucky card and ended up getting to pick whoever you wanted. True or false?"

"True," I said. "But it's not like you think."

"So," she said, ignoring my protest. "I just want you to help me understand this 'cause I'm a little surprised. Blown away, in fact. I would never have guessed that you of all people would have picked a black guy."

"I was drinking. I was a little drunk," I countered. "Everything was a little crazy."

"What happened? You suddenly decided to go native? Was it like jungle fever or something?"

"It's all a blur. I didn't have anything to eat so the alcohol went to my head. You know how I am. I'm a light weight. A glass of wine or two and I'm through."

"Ahh...the inebriation defense, " she taunted. "So you weren't responsible for your actions?"

"Exactly," I replied.

"Well I heard it got serious. Like way serious. Like going at it all night."

"Well, you heard wrong," I said. "I don't know who you got your information from. If it was Gina, you can tell her what I'm telling you."

"So, you're saying that all you did was mess around a little?" she asked. "Nothing more?"

"Yes," I said. "We talked. He was actually very interesting. He's an actor."

"Liz, please," she said in a voice that told me she was unconvinced. "You expect me to believe that you went upstairs with a naked black man with a cock the size of King Kong and talked?"

"You can believe whatever you want.," I said.

"Well, for your information, it doesn't end here. I am coming over there on Friday, pouring myself a drink and getting to the bottom of this, because, frankly, I don't believe you. I think you're covering."

"Whatever," I said. "I've got to run."

I dropped the handset into the cradle and sat back. Okay. What was I supposed to say? I needed some time to think things through. The truth was I had been drinking, but the intoxication wasn't due to the alcohol. Maybe jungle fever was exactly what it was. Maybe if Sharon had seen him walking around the pool that night, exuding raw sex, she would understand. He was sleek and well-muscled like a champion stallion, and, yes, the size of his manhood had left an indelible impression. The attraction was purely primal at its core.

When he and I were alone in one of Gina's upstairs rooms, he extended his hand, took me firmly by the arm, and pulled me close to him. He hesitated for just a second, then pressed his lips onto mine. I thought my head was going to explode. His lips were thick, full and sensuous and his kiss felt like velvet. I felt myself melting. He put his hand behind my head and stroked my my hair as he began to explore my mouth with his lips and tongue. I squeezed his strong shoulders and arms, all the while thrilled and terrified at the prospect of what awaited. When he started to unbutton my blouse and feel my breasts through the sheer bra I was wearing, the last of my inhibitions vanished. My fingers combed his back, squeezed his full, round buttocks, and found their way to his hard, lean stomach. At the same time he thrust his tongue deep into my mouth as a prelude for what else lay in store.