I phoned Rena from Montreal's Trudeau airport. It was about 10 o'clock on a Tuesday night and I was just passing through the city. I could hear lighthearted laughter in the background as we talked on the phone. She explained that she had a couple of friends over. Celia was staying over on her way to Winnipeg, and Amanda, a mutual friend from schooldays, had joined them to drink a little wine and reminisce.
"I have a room at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel. I just wondered if you wanted me to stop by on the way. I'm picking up a car and driving up north first thing in the morning."
"Why not! I think we'll be breaking up soon; and if I don't see you tonight, it may be a while."
"OK. I'll be there in about half an hour," I said hanging up the phone.
Before I left Montreal a couple of years back, Rena and I had been close, intimate friends. We remained on good terms and still enjoyed dinner and mutually satisfying sex whenever I came to town.
When I arrived it was obvious that Rena and her friends were having a good time. There were three empty wine bottles on the table and another half full, which helped explain why these ladies looking very relaxed.
"I've brought reinforcements." I said, putting a bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream on the coffee table.
"Just in time," said Rena, " I'll whip some cream."
Celia was petite, pert and good-looking in a saucy way. Though small, she was well proportioned. I guessed she would be about thirty years old. She wore a pair of khaki calf-length pants and a black sleeveless top. Amanda was nearly as tall as Rena. She had a fine, rounded face and a curvaceous body -- almost buxom. She sported a matching nylon sports set - the type runners wear. Rena whipped up a lather of cream saturated with the whole bottle of Bailey's and served it in ice cream glasses with small coffee spoons. I thought this a waste of a good liqueur but she preferred to drink it this way. These girls were really flying. They'd obviously been enjoying a good time, laughing and crying their way through lots of stories. My presence didn't slow them down any. They were babbling on about male strippers in a crude and raucous way.
Celia looked over at me and said, "Why don't you dance for us, Andy? Show us your moves."
I laughed. "If you had ever seen me dance you wouldn't be asking that!"
"It's not your dancing we want to see, " she quipped, and they all rolled about laughing.
"We'll do the dancing," said Celia. "You just stand there and we'll each get up and remove a piece of your clothing."
I looked over at Rena who smiled, winked and gave an imperceptible nod of her head.
"OK, " I said, wondering where this would go. "But you'll have to be gentle with me!"
Celia got up and danced around me, moving in rhythm to the music playing in the background. Obviously a natural extrovert, she mimicked the dance of the seven veils. She came around to my front and started to undo the buttons on my shirt. She danced, circled, stroked my chest, and eventually had all the buttons undone. She loosened the shirt out of my waistband and eased it off my shoulders. I pirouetted and bowed as Celia told Amanda to go next. Amanda seemed more sober and less playful than Celia, less in the spirit of things. She knelt down and removed my shoes one at a time. Rena did the same with socks.
