“You’ve come a long way from fretting about money, haven’t you?”
Monique was quick to snap back. “So have you, slum girl.”
Etta’s eyebrows went so far up her head that Jamie thought she would get angry at Monique. Instead, she laughed as Monique led her into the other room. Cheers commenced as Jamie hurried back to the peephole to the lounge.
“…There’s the woman of the hour,” Kennedy cried, getting up from her chair and shaking Etta’s hand. “About time you showed up to your own party. Don’t you know some of us have been getting drunk for an hour now?”
“I’m shocked,” Etta said.
She was given the best seat in the room, a large leather armchair that overlooked both the darkened window and the expansive lounge. More guests showed up behind her, including Jem, David Hamilton, and Richard Blake, of all people.
All five of Monique’s girls were working the party that night. The whole Manoir was shut down for Etta and this gathering of crazy rich assholes who could buy any woman they wanted for the night. Grace was already spoken for, as Kennedy was her patron, but they nodded to her when she asked if she could “work the room” for a while. A boisterous redhead named Holly laughed at every dumb joke Jem told before going to Ira and trying to coax them into a private dance. From a distance, June shook her head at these antics – before slyly suggesting to a thin, pale brunette named Yvette that she should try her luck with Richard Blake. June had set her eyes on a different woman whom she swore she could milk dry. “If that snitch Helen tries running to her wife about it, I’ll seduce her next.” Jamie had no idea what that was about, but apparently June wasn’t allowed to fool around with the guests here… and she didn’t like it.
Cheers erupted when Grace brought in the Balvenie, sittingpretty in its bottle and enticing more than a few guests. Etta had the honors of taking the first pour, however, and the moment the bottle opened, someone exclaimed, “Now it’s time to fucking party!”
Jamie had never seen guests like at this party before, and it was like looking into the strangest world of power-tripping weirdos she had ever encountered.
They didn’t drink beer and outright ogle the women working the room with their bodies and charms. Instead, they sipped the aged scotch – or their other liquor of choice, if they couldn’t even appreciate the Balvenie – and gazed reverently at June’s large breasts and a girl named Chelsea’s long, shining hair. Some candidly discussed whether breasts, ass, or legs were the most enticing features of a woman… aside from her face, naturally. Most agreed that it depended, but “my eyes always go there first.” This was illustrated when Yvette happened to walk by, and everyone looked at a different place on her body. Including Etta, who admired her calves.
Calves?Calves?
In many ways, this was better and worse than a rip-roaring drunken party at a seedy strip club. It was better because the air of sophistication gave it the false security of cleanliness and respectability. It was worse because these women were top-tier professionals handpicked by Monique to entice and seduce. Just because the women wore Chanel and the men wore Fioravanti didn’t mean the endgame wasn’t the same.“Get ‘em horny so we get more money because their genitals say so.”Touches here. Sweet words there. June always bent at the waist to show off her cleavage while Grace perched on her toes to show her subservience. Every girl had her preference, her strong points, and she wasn’t afraid to unleash them even on the married guests. The only one considered untouchable was Helen, because she was the boss’s wife.Don’t shit where you’re fed, I guess.Nevertheless, someone always made sure her glass was full and that she was otherwise comfortable. She might snitch, after all.
Not that Monique couldn’t see it for herself. The moment the last expected guest arrived, she joined everyone in the lounge, keeping to her corner while she oversaw the money being made – and, supposedly, her friend’s enjoyment.
Adele also wasn’t working, who helped Etta down her scotch and made it her personal duty to fill her glass and force her into conversations whenever she remained silent for too long.
Could anyone look more out of place? It wasn’t just because she was the maid of honor. Monique was practically a guest herself, aside from making sure things ran smoothly, and even she was able to engage in conversations with anyone who struck up with her. She joined Kennedy and Ira on their chats about fluctuating market prices. She genuinely laughed at another one of Jem’s dumb jokes. Monique even sashayed into a conversation about tech stocks erupting between her wife and Richard Blake. Adele, on the other hand, looked like she was trying to please everyone without realizing she should be relaxing as well.
Eventually, Etta told her to sit down and have another drink. Monique glanced over her shoulder and snapped her fingers at Yvette. For some reason, that woman was chosen to take a glass to Adele and sit near her and Etta for the rest of the evening.
This was the first hour of the party. Jamie fidgeted on her chair as she watched, both intrigued and bored half to death. It wasn’t until the second hour, when every guest was loosened up on alcohol, that Monique gestured to June, who went around the room touching the other four girls on the shoulder two times.
Whatever that signal meant, things were about to get… way more interesting.
Jamie had no idea when it happened. All five women were so smooth in their disrobing that it was like one moment they were fully clothed in their dresses, and the next they walked around in whatever flavorof undergarment they fancied. Grace leaned against her patron’s chair, wearing nothing but a navy-blue bra and panty set. Holly stuffed her dress behind a couch and reappeared in a plum corset like the one Jamie wore. June showed the most skin with a strapless bra studded with rubies. No matter how they now dressed, they looked so comfortable that they might as well have been wearing sacks.
Etta was the only one tensing in her seat – and not thefunkind.
Aw, she’s thinking of me. That’s what Jamie hoped as Chelsea came near Etta in her pink negligee and was quickly brushed off. The woman didn’t even want to be tempted, not that she could fall into non-monogamous temptation. Not like Kennedy, whose hands were all over Grace, wedding ring glistening on her hand.
Chelsea turned away from Etta, scorned, but setting her sights on a new target. “Come on, don’t you remember the fun we had that one time?” she asked Ira. “It’s been too long.”
They didn’t hide any leering in her direction, but Ira did whip out their phone and say that if they even so much as touched Ira, the phone would go off.Thanks, but no thanks.
The girls started pouring more alcohol in earnest. Soon enough, the room went from quiet, elegant conversations about stock prices and recent acquisitions to boisterous, bawdy tales of sex and, of course, kink. Jamie was most aghast at one guest slapping Chelsea on the ass and telling her she had hot tits.
So the party went into overdrive.
Sex changed everything. So did the dimming of the lights, and Holly unthreading her corset so her breasts occasionally fell out for everyone to see.Well, if she’s got the goods…Jamie’s eyes pushed against the hole in the wall so she could better see the sights.
“Thought I overheard you saying you liked flowery pussy,” Holly purred into one woman’s ear, close to Jamie’s spying spot. “Let me show you mine.The most flowery bud you’ve ever tasted.”
Even Jamie needed to fan herself.
“Well, this party is heating up,” Adele said, eyes glued to Holly’s breasts as she sauntered to Jem next. These women wanted to get money before the guests passed out drunk. Monique? She wouldn’t stop any of the married or otherwise taken guests from indulging. After all, the biggest appeal of her business was the discretion she offered. As long as none of them went after Helen, she stayed mum.Besides, how is she supposed to know who has a deal with their partner?Kennedy wasn’t the only one in the room in an open relationship.
“All right, fess up,” Jem finally shouted, perhaps one of the most intoxicated guests in the room. She slapped her hand on the table in front of Etta. “What’s it going to take to get you with one of these women?”
