This story recounts a game at a convention in which a woman winds up being unexpectedly exhibited nude in front of a large group, and simultaneously subjected to a severe test of her bladder holding capacity. Just a bit of consensual sex.
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The hotel ballroom was filling with over four hundred attendees, as the annual convention of the International Society of Structural Design came to its closing event. For ten days attendees had participated in technical and business sessions, and now they came to the concluding time of their yearly gathering. They came from all over the world to this hotel in Northern Europe, to exchange ideas, to engage in seemingly endless presentations of technical papers, to view innumerable exhibits, participate in society business, and just enjoy each other. It was almost all business, until tonight. This was the time to relax, to have fun, to end on a friendly note and carry away those great memories while looking to what would await them at their next venue a year hence.
They came in numbers, using snatches of numerous languages, though all could manage the English that was the common vehicle of their business. Perhaps a third were spouses of delegates, both male and female, while the delegates themselves were industry professionals or interested observers. In this prestigious group, most of the members were thirty or over, though there were a few younger, and some were much older. All seemed well educated, well dressed, and now smiling, looking to an evening of food, wine, and a bit of fun.
Marianne Dexter approached a table, accompanying her husband, Greg, who had been ten years a member of the society and several times an attendee at the convention. Behind them came Freida Dussenberg, employed by an architectural firm of Dusseldorf, accompanied by her husband, Hans.
"Shall we sit here? This has a good view of the stage", asked Marianne of her companions. In seeming agreement, all four of them quickly took places at the table, set for ten. Behind them quickly came another couple, conversing in French, until the gentleman politely asked in excellent English if they might join the group. Introductions were exchanged.
An older couple then approached the table, asking by exchange of glances if they might be seated. Those already there quickly nodded smilingly. Suddenly Greg expressed recognition. "Say - aren't you Art Montfort, our Society Vice President?"
The older man acknowledged the greeting with a nod, and added, "That is my privilege, but you might say retiring Vice President, as I won't have that title after tonight. May I present my wife Sylvia?" A rather elegant looking, quite tall gray haired lady at his side beamed at them, and extended her hand in greeting to those around. "My third convention - Art's been coming to them for at least twenty years, but I've had my own business and that tied me up most of the time. However, I did break loose long enough to make it for his last hurrah as a Society officer. It's been a great week for me. How about all of you?"
The group exchanged impressions and experiences of the last few days, as they were joined by two others, a man and a woman, though apparently not together, as the tables filled.
Hans looked at Art intently at one point, and then observed, "Weren't you the one they honored for distinguished service to the membership at the business session Wednesday? I really shouldn't have been there, but I accompanied Freida; and I just couldn't forget the accolades they heaped on you. We're fortunate to be in your company!"
"Yes, that was me", Art answered. "But they really overdid it. I think they were really celebrating the end of my service and the opportunity to see someone new take the job!"
"Not the way I heard it", Greg chimed in. "I've seen you at all these I've come to. Let's see, it's G. Arthur Montfort, isn't it? You've got quite a record, which I can envy. By the way, I always wondered what the 'G' was for?"
Sylvia laughed. "Guisseppe! Guisseppe Arthur Montfort! Can you believe it? I think he hates it when I tell on him?" Her steel gray hair shook a bit with her laughter as she turned to her husband, who seemed to shy from her response.
"Sylvia told on me. It's, in a way, an heirloom. My mother was from an Italian family, and her parents insisted that their grandson should have an Italian name. My parents obliged them and saddled me with it; but they never used it, and neither do I!"
"It's a perfectly good name. You shouldn't be ashamed of it!" commented Marianne.
"A great American name", Sylvia added. "We Americans are mostly a mix of who knows what. Art just didn't see it that way. So we just call him Art!"
The conversation went on for a time, until Helga, the woman who had come alone to the table, asked about the entertainment for the evening. "I understand that after the ceremonial things, we have an exciting evening ahead. After we stuff ourselves on this meal, I hear there will be a some specialty acts brought in for us! "
"Yes", Hans added. "They always seem to come up with some local color in the entertainment. I'm not sure what they will be tonight, but always they have been good.
Marianne was quick to add, "It's not the entertainers they bring in that is really the most exciting part- usually it's the audience participation thing they do each time. That's really wild! And I don't have a clue what it will be tonight!"
"Oh?" asked Helga. "What do they do?"
Greg explained. "At each banquet, there's a committee that plans some sort of game or contest, something of an icebreaker. It's intended to be fun, but, as Marianne says, it can get a bit wild. But I think everyone has enjoyed it! One rule is no one is ever pressured into participation, but everyone gets to watch. I have to say, they've been getting wilder and wilder. Who knows what they'll come up with tonight!"
Freida broke into a big smile. "Last year they did a crazy thing! They had a contest - remember the underwear event? It was, as you say, wild. But it was fun. Even for those who participated, it was fun!"
"Did you?" Marianne asked of Freida.
"I'm not telling." Freida answered, a bit shyly.
"What on earth was it?" asked Helga.
"Tell her, Marianne, since you seemed to enjoy it!" Art prompted.
"Well," Marianne began, "they had this contest. There was a good prize, mind you, so that made it worth while. The prize was to go to the first man who could get up to the stage with two sets of women's underwear - two panties and two bras! And you know where he was going to get them from!"
