Contents: British English spelling and grammar.
This has nothing to do with other stories about February sucking - I just used the title for a laugh. The description of the actual sex, is from a very unusual perspective.
***
March sucks
1st Friday in March
It was the usual format for a Friday night. John, Duncan, and Alex were sinking a few in The Hayride. Whenever the local pool team was playing away it was quiet, and the guys would sometimes have a couple of games. Meanwhile, their wives: respectively, Tilly, Vanessa and Louise, would be talking about less important things in Massalia, the town's best wine bar. That's the way of the world as far as the male population is concerned. Men discuss and deliberate; women merely gossip!
But tonight, Duncan had personal, rather than global, issues, and wanted to share them with his friends.
"I'm concerned about Vanessa." he said. "She's been acting suspiciously."
"Yeah, I thought it might be that." said John.
"Why? What have you heard?"
"Nothing. It's just that a guy with a face like yours, is usually having problems at home. Hence Vanessa; nothing implied mate."
"Sorry. I'm just being sensitive. Anyway, it's those little things only a husband would notice. And don't forget, we guys have a pact to let each other know if we hear of anything suspicious comcerning our other halves. So tell me now, both of you, is there anything on the grapevine? About Vanessa, or your girls, or any of their friends?"
"Nothing." they both answered.
"We know they're organising a hen party for Sally."
"Right."
"Well something smells fishy. Whispered phonecalls and rapid hang-ups when I come into the room."
"But they are keeping the party details secret from Sally, the bride to be." said Alex.
"No, no, he's right." countered John. "Sally's not in his house. Vanessa would only be whispering if it's something she doesn't want Duncan to hear."
"Yeah, you're probably right."
"So, what do we do?" asked Duncan. "I was hoping you guys would come up with some kind of plan. Either to stop things getting out of hand, or at least to discover what she's getting up to. I think she's planning something underhand for this hen night."
"What we do is stay calm and this week, and find out everything we can about the party arrangements." said John. "From our wives, and anyone else who might know. It's not for another three weeks yet, so we'll meet here again next Friday, and pool what we've learned."
2nd Friday
They agreed it would be futile to try and prevent their wives from attending the party. They could only do their best to find out what went on at, or after, the event, and agree on what subsequent actions they would take. The information they'd gathered so far did little to allay Duncan's fears. The girls had hired a private room at the Golden Ball Hotel, and the party would be strictly women only. There would be a bar in the room, serving wine and cocktails, which would be staffed by two females. It got worse.
There were going to be strippers, and the door would have the usual No Entry / Private Party sign. But there would also be a security guy with a metal detector wand. He would be checking invitation cards and 'searching' all the women. So any hopes of getting a phone or camera in there were dashed. There would be 'coat check' style storage, for holding the phones of any participants who brought them. Worst of all, the two strippers had a double room booked that night, at the same hotel.
"The party room is downstairs, and has its own bathroom." said Alex, "But there is no other room off it, or any other exit. So the only way in or out, even for the strippers, is through the door security are guarding."
"Booking a room for them is suspicious. It'd be cheaper to pay their travel expenses. There'd be enough room to invite two women up." said Duncan.
"Or more than two come to that." added John. "They could form a queue!"
That shut them up for a while.
"So how much can these strippers get away with? Legally, I mean." asked Duncan.
"As far as I understand it," said Alex, "there can be local by-laws to adhere to, if they're performing on a public stage. Which also restricts them from interacting with the audience. But a private party? They can get away with pretty much anything. And going to such lengths to ensure no cameras are allowed in, suggests they're probably up to no good."
"And they can get away with even more in their room." added John. "Hands up anyone who has not had sex in a hotel room."
"So we're back to my original question." said Duncan. "What do we do? If my Vanessa is going to suck some stripper when he waves his tackle in her face, I suppose that's not the end of the world."
"I think we should all be prepared for that." said Alex. "Girls will be girls. Especially when they're full of booze."
"Yeah," said John. "and they will be. These guys don't usually put in an appearance till about nine."
"Well," said Alex, "if there's no changing room or anything, it's unlikely anyone would get up to any serious mischief in the toilets. So, the real danger is after the show, up in the guys' room. I think the first thing we should do is extract promises that our girls will come straight home when the party is over. All three of us should do that; it'll be a kind of base point to judge them by. Any wife who stays after the party will, at the very least, have gone against our wishes. We should get assurances from them, and each use our own words. Don't forget, they'll tell each other what we said."
"Right."
"Pitch it as soft or aggressively as you feel appropriate. Then they'll all know to be on their best behaviour."
"That's a start I suppose." moaned Duncan. "But how do we know whether they toe the line or not?"
"Short of hanging around outside the party, and dragging them straight home, we don't." said Alex.
"Got it!" shouted John. "A brainwave!"
"That'll be the beer." said Alex. "Drinking alcohol makes you more intelligent,"
"How do you work that out?"
"Alcohol destroys brain cells, right?"
"Right."
"So, picture a herd of gazelles being stalked by a couple of lions. Who do predators pick on first?"
