I noticed him the moment he walked into our apartment. He joined the party late but seemed to know a lot of our guests already. For some reason the party had been slow to take off that night and Don and I were hoping things would get more lively.
I'm Ruta, and I live here with Don – welcome to our apartment and our party! We're all on the young side in this condo complex. Don and I own but a lot of the people here rent from the owners, like Sybil. We are slightly older than most of the others here but Sybil, our downstairs neighbor, is a little younger and works for Don, but none of us are what you would call middle age and this condo development doesn't appeal to families much. We all do creative things and have creative friends and if it's extreme and over the top we call it creative, so our parties are usually lively! Always something different and sexy.
This guy certainly caught Sybil's eye. He glanced at her while he was looking around the room but Sybil was taking a sip of her drink and kind of hid her appealing, soft, winsome face behind her glass. She does that when she is interested. He didn't go over to talk to her but I could see that his big brown eyes were lingering on her shapely body and long, slender legs. He must have wanted a drink or thought she wasn't attracted to him, though, 'cause he drifted into the dining room where we had a bar set up.
Sybil had on a flouncy blouse that didn't really show off her C cup boobs very well but it could have been worse! When she first showed up at our place for the party in a knee-length blue frock, I had to send her right back to her apartment to change. Nobody comes to our parties, not even Sybil!, looking like a timid sexless mouse. I told her to put on that sexy black miniskirt I knew she had in her closet and put something on top that unbuttoned! Leave it to Sybil to pick a top that had ruffles to attract attention and then button it up all the way and wear a bra. Next week I'm going to get her to do something about her hair, unless she wants to get a job as a librarian! That bun has got to go.
Anyway, I intercepted the cute guy, whose name was Henk, with his the dark tan and puppy-brown eyes (funny – I thought Dutch guys all had blue eyes – guess not!), and introduced myself. For some reason Sybil, who lived downstairs on the other end of the building in a mousy little bland studio apartment, had been even more withdrawn than usual. I was worried for a while that she was just going to give up on the party, go back to her apartment alone and masturbate all night, like she used to do before we met her. So I steered Henk over toward her and introduced them and then left to make sure our other guests were happy.
It was about 11:15 or 11:30, the time when our parties usually begin to transmogrify from a social occasion to a coupling opportunity. Usually. But things were slow that night! But if I could match up Sybil, I knew I could kickstart the action. Yes, I know that she seemed an unlikely engine to power a wild party, but bear with me.
Sybil, as usual, was shy but when Henk mentioned that his job involved art, she perked up. Sybil works for Don part time, while she gets her MFA in art history. Still, ten minutes later, when I came back, Henk was still carrying the conversation and Sybil was giving single-word answers to his attempts to draw her out. Yet...Sybil still managed to shine. She made a remarkable comment suggesting that impressionism as a movement actually ended with the music of Poulenc, not with the paintings of Tilson, and that everything after that was existentialism in one guise or another.
Henk, who thinks of himself as an intellectual, was blown away! And then she blushed, she was so embarrassed at being so bold to express an art opinion. Sybil was doing what she knew best – seducing guys without trying through innocence with her dewy blue eyes and shyness. But this is exactly the point in a first meeting where Sybil always chokes and I could see it coming when she went back to giving monosyllabic answers and staring at the floor. Henk started to act puzzled, then annoyed because he thought she was losing interest. I knew that Sybil was just feeling too much out there and was getting cold feet. I got up to go over and perk things up for her.
Then someone came along and interrupted them, dammit! Some guy who wanted to talk about a joint showing. While Henk was talking serious business with the other gallery owner who had sidled up to him, Sybil got discouraged and drifted back to the wallpaper and into a funk. Then her eyes lit up again, but Henk didn't see it but I did. Henk was being dragged by that impolite asshole back into our dining room to greet some our other guests who wanted to pull together for a multi-gallery exhibition. Stuck with that loser because it was business, Henk glanced back at Sybil, but it wasn't a look that said to wait for him to come back. It was more a look that said, "I thought you were interested in me!" After he looked away again, Sybil leaned over to me, looked at me with those limpid blue eyes of hers, and whispered, "Him. I'd like to do it tonight. With him."
She took another sip. Her last glass was sitting dry on the side table and the glass she was holding, I hadn't been counting, was almost empty now and she was swaying just a little. Sybil seduces others with being pretty and innocent. But to bring herself do anything about it, she has to seduce herself, in her own way.
I wasn't surprised. "Well, Sybil, let's see what we can do! But first you have to make yourself irresistibly attractive to him."
I took my arm off her delicate shoulder, pulled up my tube top because it was riding down on my big chest and it wasn't me that was going to be the center of attention for the next half hour or so! Then I started unbuttoning Sybil's blouse from the top. The party guests around us stopped to look and admire Sybil's pale skin as a wedge of her pale chest came into view. There wasn't much point in unbuttoning it below her bra but at least this was a little better, showing some skin and you could see the swell of her delectable breasts.
"Damn, girl," I said, patting her under the tits to make them move in order to emphasize how the bra immobilized one of her best features, "you need to learn to advertise!"
A gal in pink hot pants, standing next to me, squeezed the crotch of a guy wearing baggy pants she was with and said, "You, too!" Everyone laughed and Sybil turned bright red! You could see the blush spread to her neck and chest, as far down as her blouse was open.
I told Sybil to go sit on the sofa in the living room. The guests that had planted themselves there at the beginning of the party had just got up and left. I went into the dining room, where we had a bar set up, to get Sybil another drink and to find Don, my husband. He was putting out more ice. I went up to him, licked his ear, and said "Sybil's up for another adventure!"
"Who?" he asked. I could see that he got an erection.
"The dreamboat who came in twenty minutes ago and who's talking to the wire sculptor."
"Oh yeah. His name's Henk. He owns a gallery on the south side. I think he just broke up with someone. It came up because Dirk wanted a shot at him and then someone told him Henk wasn't gay."
I was finished making the drink – a double – for Sybil and told Don as I left the table "Get them together! The first launch failed to ignite. And maybe introduce Dirk to Fred, the guy with the guy in the dress. You won't be breaking anything up, they're just friends."
Sybil was still planted on the sofa when I got back, eyes glazing over. A couple we knew from the art school where she was doing graduate work was just leaving. They had stopped to talk to her but Sybil was quickly losing the ability to make conversation. They both kissed her on the lips (with a hint of tongue, which made her blush) and told her not to get up to say goodbye, not to be polite but because they were afraid she might fall down if she stood up.
Past midnight, the party was breaking into small groups, some of them finally getting amorous. In front of her on a big leather chair a guy had his hand up a girl's skirt and she was making faces. Behind her in the hallway that leads to the dining room two hot girls were kissing. Honestly, I love this place!
I sat down beside Sybil and she leaned her weight on me and giggled, sipping her new drink, saying "I have to pee but I can't stand up!"
"Well, I guess I'll have to help you!" I said. "You're not allowed to pee on our white sofa!"
I stood up and pulled Sybil to her feet, then put my arm around her waist. She put her arm around my shoulder and I steadied her while we walked – really I was walking and she was stumbling - over to the "powder room" (that's what the condo salesman called it) in the hallway leading to the dining room. The bathrooms in our guest bedroom and of course in the master bedroom are big and have showers and tubs but the powder room is small because it's only used by people visiting. It's a little cramped in there for two people. It was going to be a trick getting her panties down so she could pee but she'd fall down if she tried to do it herself. So I decided to pull down her panties outside the bathroom. Besides, it would amuse the other guests.
"Hold on to the table!" I told Sybil. There was a little table in the hall next to the powder room where we had pictures of our friends and famous artists we knew. While Sybil held on for dear life to keep from sliding to the floor, I pulled her miniskirt up around her hips. Damn if the girl wasn't wearing a thong instead of white cotton panties! Good for her! She was learning! She was also starting to lean to one side, so I called over to my straight friend Ron, who was standing at the dining room end of the hallway, laughing at someone's joke.
"Ron, could you please hold Sybil up while I pull down her thong? She has to pee!"
Ron laughed. "With pleasure! I'm happy to help any woman lose clothing, especially underwear." Getting his hands on Sybil was the most fun he was going to have all night!
Sybil groaned and blushed as we talked openly about her – you could see her turn bright red all the way down her chest where the blouse was open and even underneath her bra because her blouse had pulled out of her skirt and was gaping. I was having trouble pulling her thong down because her skirt was tight around her hips, so I pulled it up even higher to her waist, leaving her exposed below her impossibly flat belly. Ron held her firmly under the arms and I squatted down and pulled Sybil's thong down to her knees, then to her feet. I raised her left foot and slid the thong off her leg while Ron held her (and copped a feel of her breast). Then once she was standing again, sort of, I lifted her right leg and removed the thong. To do this, of course, I had to squat. My own dress was very short that night.
