It was Sunday morning and, unsurprisingly, we all slept in quite late following last nightâs activity. When we eventually did emerge, Margaret prepared a sort of brunch and we talked about what we should do for Jillâs last evening with us. Jill was Margaretâs sister who had been staying with us for a few days.
It was amazing to think that she had only been here for three days and yet she had brought a spark back to our lives that had not been there for many years. Now that her house redecoration was complete she would be setting out in the morning to return home. Since she lived at the other end of the country, we had no idea when we would see her next so we wanted to make her final evening memorable.
As we chatted around the breakfast room table, Margaret was idly flicking through a free local paper that had been delivered a few days before.
âI donât believe it!â she exclaimed. âLook at this Jill. The Cult are playing here tonight at the University.â
âReally?â said Jill as she moved around the table to look at the paper herself, âI canât believe theyâre still around!â
I had certainly heard of The Cult, they had been quite well known post-punk rock band in the mid to late-eighties, but they had never featured anywhere on my list of favourites. It seemed however that they were big news at the time in the girlsâ household. Margaret and Jill were reminiscing about the singles and albums they had bought, having seen the band make an appearance on a TV program called The Tube some thirty years or so ago.
âThe fire in your eyes, keeps me alive,â sang Jill.
âAnd the fire in your eyes, keeps me alive,â responded Margaret.
âIâm sure in her youâll find⊠the sanctuary,â they sang together, but not even in the same key, before bursting into a fit of giggles like teenagers.
âIan Astbury was my first ever crush,â admitted Jill, âI used to imagine meeting him and him giving me my first real kiss.â
âMy imagination went further than yours,â Jill retorted. âHe was the focal point of my first forays into masturbation. He was responsible for my first ever orgasm!â
Jill and I both stared straight at Margaret and she blushed a deep crimson. âIâm not going any further with that!â she said and buried her face back in the paper.
âWell thatâs decided,â I said. âWeâll go and see them tonight.â
âBut weâll be twice the age of anyone else there,â said Margaret.
âWho cares? Itâll be fun!â Jill replied.
I fired up the laptop and within 10 minutes I had secured three tickets that we could pick up at the door when we arrived. Then I went on to book us a table for dinner at a restaurant about ten minutesâ walk from the University campus and made a call to arrange a cab for the evening, so that I didnât have to drive.
All arrangements made, I repaired to the lounge to watch a recording of last nightâs Match of the Day and doze a little. The girls spent the whole afternoon reminiscing about music and boys, which seemed to be the two main interests of their teenage years, and deciding what they were going to be wearing for the evening.
Five minutes before the cab was due, Margaret and her younger sister came downstairs. Their time working on their outfits had been well spent. They had done their very best to approximate eighties fashion from within their existing wardrobe.
Margaret was wearing a gold and black lace dress. It was off-the shoulder and sleeveless, so basically being held up by her boobs. I guessed she was also wearing a black sleeveless bra. Under her breasts, the dress narrowed to a v-shaped waist that was quite flattering, before flaring out to a short ra-ra shape. The skirt part was actually very short, but underneath she was wearing some lacy black leggings that came to just above her ankles. She was wearing a pair of black shoes with quite a high heel and was carrying a black, fake feather boa in case she needed to cover her shoulders.
Jill was wearing a plain black cocktail dress with quite a high, halter-style neck that I recognised as one of Margaretâs that she hadnât worn for many years. She had referred to it at the time as her âbodyconâ dress. It was really close fitting, particularly as Jill was a little curvier than her sister and it was immediately apparent that Jill had dispensed with a bra for the evening. When she twirled around to show off the outfit, I realised the reason for this was that the dress was virtually backless. This dress was quite short too, but Jillâs legs were bare and she was wearing a pair of black ankle high boots. She carried a light shawl in case the temperature dropped too far later in the evening.
We climbed into the taxi around six fifteen and within twenty minutes we arrived at the restaurant I had booked. It was just a small Italian that was convenient for the University. We had not eaten there before but, despite it being quite early, it was bustling and most tables were occupied, which I took to be a good sign.
We were seated at a small round table and ordered some drinks while we studied the menu. Margaret had her usual gin and tonic, Jill ordered a vodka tonic and I started with a Peroni beer. I also ordered a bottle of Pinot Grigio so that it would be well chilled when we needed it.
The meal itself was pretty good and the wine was going down pretty fast. We had almost finished our second bottle by eight pm and I ordered a third, which I knew we would need to finish quickly.
We had been talking about the concert we were going to and realised we really did not know what to expect. There was a fear that it could be a big disappointment. Jill suggested that we should find a way to make sure the evening was kept interesting.
âAs weâre stepping back in time, letâs play a game of Dare like we used to when we were young, Margaret,â she said.
âOoh yes!â squealed Margaret, causing several heads in the restaurant to turn our way.
âI really donât fancy playing some kidsâ game,â I said, wondering if this evening was going to turn into a total waste.
âOh, I think youâll enjoy this game. Itâs definitely for adults,â Jill replied. She explained that we would be taking it in turns to give one another a dare. The person completing a dare would get to set the next one.
âAnd to add some real spice,â she continued âthe first person to fail to complete a dare has to sleep on their own tonight and leave the other two to enjoy themselves.â
This sent Margaret into a fit of giggles that indicated to me that she had probably had enough to drink already.
âBut if youâre scared of us girls winning.....â Jill challenged. My reply was simply to ask how we would decide who should give the first dare. Jill picked up a knife and spun it fast in the middle of the table. It came to rest with the blade, more or less, pointing at me. âLucky Sod!â She grumbled, but with a big grin.
The waitress arrived with our wine. I poured three glasses and dared Jill to hand me her panties. Margaret let out another giggle at the thought. Jill fixed her with a stare and told her that she would comply, but that she was setting the next dare for Margaret to remove her panties too, plus her leggings.
Margaret began to protest that her dress was far too short, but Jill stood up, grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the ladies room. Margaret downed her glass of wine in one and went off with Jill.