Ignoring the menacing stares from the three couples hosting the Grand Gala Ball, the most prestigious and, quite frankly, snooty event of the year, Jonathan whispered, "Invitation? I seem to have...," as he reached down, took hold of his zipper and pulled it firmly downward. He began to smile hearing the immediate gasps as he slowly worked his cock out of his pants, letting it rest on his open palm. Jonathan finished his smile as the gasps became quietly ardent moans when his cock quickly grew to its full tumescent length.
The men and women alike simply stood in a nervous silence, each gazing down at the not overly large, but perfectly formed erection. All three men felt a twinge of jealousy uncomfortably combined with a disturbing feeling as their own cocks began to harden. Of course the women felt a damp longing congeal between their legs as some incredible thoughts ran through their minds.
"Ah, yes, that is fine. You are very welcome here," one of the gentlemen said, initially reaching his hand out to Jonathan's but quickly withdrawing it as he realized the new guest was still holding his cock with his right hand. "The bar is inside and to the right, the buffet table directly at the back. The seating is assigned, but you can sit at the head table with us, we'll just pull up an extra chair."
Jonathan eased his cock back into his pants, feeling a slight air of disappointment from his hosts as he carefully zipped his zipper up past his still erect cock. He then reached out and shook the hands of each man as he bowed his head to each of the men's wives. "Thank you, I look forward to an enjoyable evening," he said as he turned to walk into the dining area.
Heading toward the bar, he glanced back and noticed the three women still watching him as their husbands were checking the invitations of a short line of guests. He looked back to the bartender and asked for a glass of red wine. Taking a quick sip, Jonathan nodded watching as the bartender finished pouring. He then moved toward the head table, milling about, waiting for the hosts to find an appropriate place for him.
Looking over the settings at the head table Jonathan moved down the length of the table reading each place card. Letting his eyes roll over the sweeping curves of the calligraphy he read Stephanie Alcan and looked up to the youngest of the three women greeting the guests. He recalled how his eyes had been drawn from her name tag over to the cleavage her low cut gown had exposed. At the time her eyes had focused on his cock so he could linger, enjoying the impression her nipples made in the nearly sheer fabric. It was her breasts that encouraged the quick erection he got while meeting the hosts.
The next place card was Andrew Alcan, Stephanie's husband, a thin man perhaps ten years older than his wife, say in his mid-fifties. He was obviously very successful in business and even as he nervously responded to Jonathan exposing his cock, he maintained an air of dignity. Thinking of the couple, Jonathan decided that Stephanie was not Andrew's "trophy wife," even in her forties, she still seemed too young, sexy and vital yet was too close to her husband's age to be a trophy.
Margret Thornsburg was the name on the next place card and Jonathan looked over to the oldest of the three women. Her hair was a silvery gray, a color he always found alluring on an older woman. With her hair styled up in a bun-like fashion her neck was beautifully exposed. Though perhaps in her mid-sixties, Margret, either with some prodigious nip and tucks or a just a healthy lifestyle, her skin appeared very soft with only a wrinkle or two showing on a body that looked like she was forty. Her breasts hung a bit lower in her gown than her younger two friends, but Jonathan felt a tingle in his balls when he pictured cupping and lifting them.
Moving on up the table the next place card was Arthur Thorrnsburg who looked to be almost in his eighties. It looked to Jonathan that perhaps Margret was Arthur's "trophy wife" some twenty years earlier. It was hard to imagine this old fellow keeping his, still vital, wife very happy in bed.
Smiling, Jonathan moved his eyes to the next place card; Andrea Sinclair seemed to be the one most moved by the vision of his cock. Remembering how greedily her green eyes gazed at his erection as her tongue just slightly wet her lips. Although her gown helped underplay her stature, he could see she was a heavy woman, with very large breasts, a broad stomach and wide hips. Seeing her laughing now, he pictured her skin quivering beneath the satiny folds of her clothing.
Ashton Sinclair actually appeared to be a bit younger than his wife and displayed a nervousness when they met that made Jonathan wonder if perhaps he didn't marry into his wife's money. He wore the fine suit exquisitely but somehow seemed a bit out of place amid his wealthy friends.
Noticing a slight commotion Jonathan figured the last of the guests arrived and he waiting patiently as Andrea and Margret moved over to him, each asking if we needed anything else to drink. Before he could answer, Stephanie slipped up behind him with several waiters and barked out several orders to rearrange the settings. When dinner was served a few minutes later, Jonathan found himself seated between Stephanie and Andrea.
