Debbie was one of the last ones to arrive at Girls Night the next Wednesday. As she walked in, several eyes immediately turned to her.
"You told them a story and didn't tell us?" Maggie demanded.
"What?" Debbie was a bit flustered.
"Last week you get us all excited about this game you play with John but completely stiff us on the good parts," Maggie continued. "Now, we find out you actually told one of the stories when we weren't there. I think I hate you...and, sweetie, having your hair stylist hate you is a very dangerous thing!" Maggie gave a hugely exaggerated scowl to show just how grave Debbie's danger was.
"Well, it just kind of..." Debbie's voice trailed off weakly. She turned and looked at her closest friends. "Who blabbed?"
Anne meekly raised her hand, "Umm, me? Sorry."
"Anne! That wasn't supposed to be gossip!" Debbie's exasperation wasn't faked.
"I'm so sorry, Debbie. I was just...well, the whole thing really excited me; I've been thinking about it for the last four days. When Claire and Mary got here, I just kind of blurted out something not thinking that Heather and Maggie were already here. Then Vi showed up and we were already talking..." Now it was her voice that trailed off. "I'm sorry."
"There's no harm," said Maggie, "you can just tell us now."
"Nah, I don't think so, guys..."
Laura walked in at that point, saw the faces. "What did I miss?"
"Anne told us that Debbie told her, Claire and Mary one of her fantasies over the weekend," Vi said.
"And now Debbie doesn't want to tell us," Maggie added helpfully.
Laura's eyes lit up. "Oooooh, I'm glad I showed up this week."
"Come on, Debbie!"
Debbie shook her head. "Let's do something else."
"This is just so not fair!" Heather said.
"I don't want to do something else," said Maggie. "I'd much rather hear about someone getting as much oral sex as they could handle!"
Debbie looked over at Anne, "You didn't spare the details, did you?" Anne flushed. "Well, since you girls already know what happened, I don't need to go over it, do I?"
"But, we didn't get the details," protested Heather, at the same time as Laura said, "But I don't know what happened."
"Come one, Deb," Anne urged, "I'm sorry I said something I shouldn't have, but they know now and you've already told some of us. We're all friends. Please?"
Debbie looked around, sighed, "All right."
Claire spoke up for the first time, "One thing. Given what happened tonight, I think we need to agree one something.
"What happens here, stays here. We're friends, like Anne says, and friends don't tell each other's secrets. Debbie's telling us private stuff. Nothing that gets said leaves this group." There were nods around the circle.
"That includes husbands. Bill knows about The Game, but I didn't tell him Debbie's story. Mary, did you tell Keith about what Debbie said Saturday night?" Mary shook her head. "Okay, then. Not even husbands...Maggie, Heather? You don't tell Peter and Frank. No one! Is everyone agreed on this?" She looked at each woman in the room, waiting until they agreed.
"Tracy and Jackie were here last week."
"They're not a big deal," Claire said. "I was the one who invited them, but it was just for the party. If you run into them, obviously they know about The Game, but nothing else gets said to them, not even that there IS something else.
"In fact, I think the rule needs to be that, if someone's not here, they don't get the story from someone else. Only the person whose story it is can tell it."
Everyone nodded. "Okay, then."
So Debbie told her story again, this time to the wider audience. It was easier the second time.
When she was done, the newcomers reacted much as her old friends had done on Saturday--they were excited, cheeks a bit flushed as their imaginations pictured what had happened in that bed that evening.
"Tell us what he did to you after you finished dinner," Heather said.
"You mean, like details?"
"Yeah. What...exactly...did you have him do? I mean, for instance, did you have him come in and just start fucking you or did you have him ease into it slowly? What did you want?"
Debbie's face got slightly red, but she realized she didn't mind answering as much as she thought she would. "Oh, I don't know."
Anne spoke up. "Deb, you've got us totally hooked. No one's going to be critiquing you or John; we're the perverts playing voyeur here. I know maybe it's awkward to talk about sex, but you're making us hot and bothered and we'd like you to do it some more. Pretty please? Give us a good porn story?"
Everyone laughed.
"Well," Debbie sighed a bit, "the problem is that I can't. I don't really remember the details. It was last year and I had had a bit to drink. It's just sort of a blur of good sex, if you understand. I mean...I know it went on for a while.
"I had him start kind of easy, you know: slow, taking his time, building me up. And...well...then I came that way and got on top for one time because I wanted to set the pace and control how I rubbed against him. I remember I kind of collapsed on him at the end and had to take a break.
"At some point, I put him back on top with my legs wrapped up around him and had him go as hard as he could. That was, like, the most mind-blowing orgasm of the day and I was almost ready to stop. He needed a break then. He said it was so he didn't come, but I think he was getting really tired. So we did it one more time, really slowly, with him from behind while we were spooning.
"But, I can't really fill in the details. I don't remember them." Debbie said.
She could see the disappointment in Heather's face and a couple of the others sighed. "Sorry, I'd try to tell you; I really would. But that day is one of the blurriest because it was just sort of orgasms all day long."
"I hate it when that happens," Anne said, getting a laugh from everyone and lightening the mood.
"So, tell us a different one, then, Debbie," said Claire quietly. "You talked to John about telling us the fantasy, right?"
"Of course I did!"
"Did he say you could only tell us that one story?"
"Well, there were two I mentioned to him and he didn't forbid them. So I guess he tacitly agreed to those two."
"Tell us the second one, then."
...
"Have any of you ever fantasized about being a prostitute?"
A couple of embarrassed glances.
"I have...not to actually be one...just to think about," said Maggie.
"Yeah, me too," added Mary, not seeing the surprised look from her closest friends.
"Really?" said Laura, "that seems totally 'ewww' to me."
"Not really doing it...that WOULD be totally 'ewww'...having sex with some disgusting slob who has bad breath and probably half a dozen STDs," agreed Debbie. "No, I'm not talking about anything remotely like reality.
"I'm talking about the romanticized version where you make every guy want you--and it's just a night of sex, probably wild sex, with no strings attached, with some handsome guy who wants you so much he'll pay for it--and you enjoy it even though it's your job. Sort of 'Pretty Woman' on steroids."
"I guess," said Laura doubtfully. "Not my thing, but I guess I can see that being a fantasy."
"Well, it was mine."
- - - - -
"John, I know my fantasy day isn't for couple of weeks, but I wanted to talk to you about it because it might not be the kind of thing that can happen on the spur of the moment."
He looked at me expectantly, with that slightly nervous look we both got when the other was describing what we'd have to do.
"It's a role play fantasy."
"Ooh, are you the innocent schoolgirl and I'm the stern teacher?" he laughed.
"No, smartass, that's your fantasy. You spend one of your days if you want that one."
"Oh, right, I forgot," he grinned.
"In this one, I'm the expensive lady of the night who gets paid to keep a traveling businessman happy one evening."
I had surprised him, I could tell.
"Here's the address of the Fremont Hotel near the convention center out toward Providence. I'll be in the bar there at 8:00 on that Saturday--in character," I said, staring at him.
"And, I'm supposed to..."
I cut him off, "Obviously, a woman in this line of work doesn't know exactly how her evening is going to go."
