You straighten my tie, patting down the lapels of my jacket… then stand back and grin. It gives me a chance to take you in – very simple, very sleek formal gown and high heels, a fantastic silver necklace that plunges down the open cleavage showing through the drape of your dress. As I stand there, taking you in, you’re doing the same to me, making sure everything is just so.
“…and you’re wearing those boxer briefs I put out for you too, right?” finally punches through my fog. “Yes. Although I don’t know what that has to do with anything.” You had been very specific about clothes, and very tight-lipped about where we’re going.
“You’ll see. You do need to read the rules first though.”
“Shhhhh… just read.” It looks like a formal invitation, envelope and all…
You put your finger on my lips and lead me out.
I feel the adrenaline surging as we pull up to what looks like a mansion, the valet opens our doors as others arrive as well, getting out, going in – you’d think it was an incredible gala and we were lucky enough to be invited. Everyone is dressed to the nines. And everyone, except those working, is dressed in black.
I proudly take your arm as we walk up and show our invitation – and we go into the mansion – then you hand me my mask and put yours up to your face as we walk in. It feels odd at first, but when we clear the doorway, that all falls away as everyone in the crowd has masks of all sorts. It’s a bizarre scene.
I look at you, wondering what’s next… but then looking around, a strange scene is unfolding. People are rubbing their hands all over each other, are nuzzling each other. But… they’re not touching. SO very close, but not touching. And the recipients are either participating right back, this odd mime-type interaction or just reveling in the attention. Many are soaking in the attention of more than one person – and you can sense the electricity between them.
I’m standing there, probably mouth hanging open, when a woman walks up to me, winks, and waits. As soon as I crack a nervous smile back, she’s running her hands over my face, almost cupping it.
…and never touching me. I can feel the electricity between us. Her touch is so close I can feel my skin almost reaching for her. She clearly knows this and runs her hands over my face, my body, my legs, all of me. It’s odd and erotic and sexy all at the same time. She stands back up, winks at me, shimmies a bit to the music, then waves me into the main room. It’s filled with people. 2, 3, 4 people doing similar things to people.
You wander over to a very well built man currently the attention of a few different people and you join in. I sit down and take a drink, taking it all in. Watching you with him is strange and sexy all at the same time. As I’m sitting there I sense someone behind me, at the same time as someone walks up to me in front. I start to get up, but am motioned to stay seated.
The person behind me leans while running their hands around me and whispers in my ear, describing all sorts of things they’d love to do with me. The whisper is in this uber-sexy raspy voice and sends chills down my spine.
And then both people are gone, a sea of masks and people and I’m back alone, watching you be consumed by a cloud of people running their hands around you, over you, all without a single touch. I can feel the tension from across the room, and it’s duplicated all over the place little groups of people – some with one, some with many – all sorts of combinations of types of people – just teasing. Finding ways to touch without touching. Puffs of air, close enough to feel, yet not touching, words, descriptions.
It’s a total mind-game for everyone.
Then a bell rings. The band stops. All noise stops. I stand, wondering what’s going on and all of the gorgeous black dresses drop to the floor. You walk silently over to me, now in your black lingerie, and pull off my coat. You whisper in my ear “Phase II now…”
In a matter of fewer than 90 seconds, no formal attire remains – only masks, lingerie and very minimally dressed men, including me. All of it, still black. The event staff immediately pick up the clothes and they’re whisked away in seconds.
At the 2 minute mark, the bell rings again. The band restarts right where they left off. Dancers dancing, people talking, and yes. The almost touch has intensified. I see men, clearly aroused by the people around them, running their hands over them, teasing them. Women are lost in their thoughts and doing their own gasping as a non-touch here, a non-touch there pushes buttons in them they didn’t realize were there.
It’s quickly becoming this orgy of sounds and delicious comments, mixed with downright raucous noises and comments. It’s becoming an orgy of delicious want and desire and the best kinds of frustration. You can see it in people’s eyes, see it in their bodies, hear it, even taste it in the air. It’s this incredibly sexually charged scene.
It’s a bizarre, almost ritual-type scene. With everyone in this zone of erotic tease and energy that just won’t stop.
After what seems like only a few seconds, but surely must have been longer, I hear the bell again. This time, everyone finds their partner and walks toward the entry, where we’re all handed robes – black of course – and a room key. You look at me with this big knowing grin…