They walked on foot for a few blocks until they reached a brownstone in the Back Bay, middle-class in its upkeep but probably still costing its residents a fortune. Karen pushed the speaker button on the door. A male voice said, "Yeah?"
"Itās me, Karen."
The male spoke to someone nearby. "Is the new girl named Karen?" Someone female shouted back "yeah," and the guy asked, "Did you bring someone?"
Karen held the button. "Yeah."
"Is he cute?" the guy asked.
Ben blushed. Karen smiled at him, and she was blushing also. "Yeah, he is," she answered.
"Then come on up." A buzz sounded, and Karen opened the door.
Ben followed Karen up the flight of stairs, still holding the pizzas. He was starting to get nervous. "What ..."
"Donāt ask," Karen interrupted. "Itās too late now."
Ben tried to clear his mind of questions, which was easy with the smell of fresh pizza right in front of his face. At least he knew this much: He was going to an apartment with new people in it, and they were going to eat pizza, and perhaps look at his underwear. Basic sitcom scenario, at worst.
Karen knocked on an apartment door, and seconds later it opened. There stood a tall, solidly built man with sandy-blond hair and wide blue eyes. Beyond him, Ben could see a tastefully decorated living room, and two girls sitting on a couch. One had extremely short bright blond hair, and the other had bouncy red hair that fell down to her shoulders. Both wore shorts and white t-shirts, and both were perfectly shaped, from what Ben could tell.
"You must be Karen," the man said, who was also wearing a t-shirt with his blue jeans. "Iām Bernie." He shook Karenās hand. "Come in, come in."
"Hi," Karen said nervously. This was the most nervous Ben had ever seen her, and it made him nervous as well. The redhead got up and approached them.
She said, "Pizza! Let me help." Then she took all four boxes and disappeared around a corner.
The blonde girl shouted, "Taggart, get off the phone! Karenās here."
A voice called from another room, "Make her comfortable! Iāll be right there!"
"Tag, she looks like sheās gonna hurl. And her boy-toy, too."
Taggart shouted, "How is he?"
"Heās good," the blonde purred. "An eight at least."
"A ten!" the redhead shouted from the kitchen. "I want him!"
"Hey, Iām Bernie," the blond guy said, shaking Benās hand. "Let me get your coat."
Bernie tugged at Benās coat, and Ben allowed it to slip off. Bernie also took Karenās long coat, and Ben was surprised to see that she was wearing a white t-shirt as well. Ben was the only one wearing a button up shirt, which heād kept on when he fell asleep on the couch after work that day. The big picture was beginning to come together, but Ben still had no idea what it looked like.
Despite the bizarre opening circumstances, the evening proceeded fairly normally. Everyone sat around the living room and ate pizza for about half-an-hour. The blonde girl was named Bethany, and the redhead was Alicia. Taggart, who was roughly the same size as Bernie, was a dark-haired man who did not smile much but was good-natured and humorous. Everyone wore a plain white t-shirt except Ben, in his bright blue button-up. The female strangers sat on either side of Ben on the couch. They were gorgeous, and Ben had to work very hard to concentrate on the conversation and his plate of food. Karen sat on the floor at Taggartās feet. Sometimes Taggart would run his fingers through Karenās hair, which made her seem nervous but excited Ben to no end. He was in his element; he was being allowed to watch.
Alicia said, "Hey look, he has a white t-shirt on under his blue business shirt." Without asking permission, Alicia unbuttoned Benās shirt, while the others made approving whoops and hollers. Soon Ben was clad in thin white cotton just like everyone else.
"What do you do for a living, Ben?" Bernie asked. He sat in a loveseat against the opposite wall.
"Uh, Iām an artist. I work for an advertising agency."
"Hey, an artist!" Alicia exclaimed with approval. "I paint."
"Is that where you met Karen?" Bethany asked. Her hand fell on Benās leg. He was also the only one not wearing a denim bottom, but khaki slacks instead.
Karenās face was expressionless. She was deep in thought about something. As Ben looked at her, he realized that everyone was waiting for his answer, and the room was dead silent. Except for Karen, all eyes were on him. Their eyes were kind and patient, but Ben felt like a cornered rodent.
"No actually," Ben said self-consciously. "We... uh... met last night."
"Oh yeah?" Bernie said. He laughed, as did the girls, and they continued laughing for a few long seconds, sharing some private joke. Taggart and Karen did not laugh.
Taggart looked intently at Ben. "Was it a date?"
Ben stared back, unblinking. "Yeah, I guess."
Taggart asked, "What did you do on your date?"
Karen was the one who answered the question. "We fucked," she said.
This time no one laughed, but Bernie and the girls smiled pleasantly.
Taggart slipped from his chair and sat on the floor behind Karen. He lifted his knees so Karen could wrap her arms around them. While his earlier attempts to play with Karenās thick brown hair had been subtle, he now ran his fingers through the hair in an unmistakably sensual way.
"Tell us about it, Karen," Taggart said.
Before Karen said another word, Ben knew why he was there. He watched as Karenās nipples hardened under the t-shirt. He could not turn away.
"He stood in my living room as I undressed him," Karen began, her eyes closing slightly. "Then I fell on the couch and put my hand down my pants. Ben dropped to his knees and stroked himself with my feet, then he came. I tasted it, then took off my clothes and crawled on top."
Taggart asked, "Did you use protection?"
"No," Karen answered.
"Did you tell him you were on the pill?"