This was the party that changed my life, well at least my outlook on the marriage I had convinced myself was almost perfect and as I came to realize, the marriage that I had let become my life.
First a little about me. I’m a 36 year old natural blond. 5’9” with an athletic build that looks like it belongs to a beach volleyball player or swimmer which happened to be the way I’d made a name for myself in Northern California (yes, beach volleyball in NORTHERN CA) before heading off to college in New York City to study art and design.
I lived a storybook life growing up in what has to be one of the most beautiful areas in the entire world. I have two sisters and loving parents. We were raised to be open minded but weren’t as liberal as some of our friends. Because I was a swimmer, I didn’t get involved in a lot of the stuff a lot of high school kids got into (when you have to show up and swim several miles starting at 4:30 in the morning you don’t stay out as late as you might otherwise). I’ll try and show how this is important to my story as we move closer to that life-changing party!
Well, I tell you I loved New York. It was the late-80s and I was pursuing my dream of becoming a sculptor and along the way, enjoying some of the partying I’d missed because of those early dates with the pool (by the way, not all work but that might be call for another story sometime). My senior year, I met this gorgeous graduate student at NYU (okay, maybe I have more stories to tell than I thought I did but this part of my story will also have to wait). We continued to date after he took a position in London and I went on to study in Spain and we ended up getting married about 18 months after graduation. Life was, again, bliss. Chas (not his real name) was making his mark early as an investment banker and I was successful landing three patrons who commissioned pieces of my work (almost unheard of for such a young artist). After about 7 years, we moved back to New York when Chas got a shot at a principal role in a new hedge fund.
This is where my story really begins to take shape. What I’m about to describe is way too close to the stereotype that many people hold about high-flying Wall Street tycoons. I never believed it myself. Actually, never really thought about it but if I had, I wouldn’t have believed I could have gotten sucked in to the life that became my life. To be clear, we became part of the new-rich, the quick money crowd and not the more mature crowd that had lived with serious wealth for a while or had had time to grow into it. We kicked into a 900 horse power life. At first it was fun. Of course I gave up my art in order to manage the social calendar that I kept in between times ‘our boys’ could step away from their work and join us. When they did, that 900 turned into something supersonic!
All through this I was happy. Chas and I were in love, Chas was ecstatically happy with his success and truly committed to creating new ways of achieving mind-numbing returns. I missed my art but how could I complain about deciding to take off with a couple of girlfriends on a shopping trip to one of the world’s top fashion centers like some decide to head off to the mall.
Then, around 2005 things took a bizarre shift. Several of my girlfriends seemed to change, almost overnight. I was sure they had jumped down the rabbit hole and discovered what they believed to be the joy of serious drugs. They were always showing up for lunch either so frenetic I feared they would stroke out or, looking like they needed something to keep them from falling into their salads. I asked Chas what he was hearing from the guys and he was just vague (and Chas was never vague about anything). It was around this time that a large group of our friends started weekending outside the city (this is a true story so I’m not going to say where…or is it, could what you are about to read really be true?). For several months, it was actually nice; Chas and I got to spend more time together and I felt we were entering a new phase of our relationship, a deeper connection.
Well, it wasn’t to be. About 6 months after our friends had started to make their weekend migrations, Chas announced that we were going to spend next weekend at ‘chateau blank de blank’ (again, I’m not telling). I was actually excited. It didn’t sound like Chas was thinking we’d make it a regular part of our schedule and I must admit all of the mystery surrounding our friend’s new social focus was making my imagination run wild and I was excited to find out what it was all about.
When the weekend came, we flew out (no one drove these days, it was a relatively short helicopter ride from Manhattan), arriving Friday right around dusk.
It was beautiful. Torches lit the grounds and when we landed and got inside, there were candelabras lit throughout the house. We were shown to our suite and set about getting dressed for dinner. Well, I was blown away. Gatsby couldn’t have put on anything more alluring or grand and the evening was absolutely fantastic. Yes, our friends were now into drugs where Chas and I just weren’t, there was also a lot more cross-couple flirtation than I’d remembered but it seemed innocent enough and I reminded myself that it was a big world out there with a lot of ways to live life; heck, it wasn’t like I was a prude or anything like that! Truth is, by the time Chas and I got back to our room we were so intoxicated with the mix of sensual innuendo, glamour, unbelievably fine wine and lots of it, that we settled in to our exotic-fur covered bed and made wild and passionate love, three times before we fell asleep exhausted.
The next day, the boys headed out to ride ridiculously powerful toys and shoot some artillery caliber guns. The girls toughed our way through various spa treatments and hung out by the pool. I could see why our friends had set upon this new weekend diversion.
That night, we again got dressed (up) for dinner and if anything, the atmosphere was even more decedent. The drugs, drink and most amazing food served and consumed in the most sensual fashion I’d ever experienced just kept coming. It had to be 2am when I ended up following the ladies to the lower level of the chateau and then, through what could only be called a secret passageway that led down another level to what seemed like a subterranean chamber from centuries past. The only light was from candelabras and occasional torches on the walls (again, something out of an Errol Flynn movie). We finally entered a large chamber with a large shallow pool in the center. There were four fountains, one at each corner of the pool and when I dipped my toe in, the water was almost hot-tub warm. When the girls started stripping down, it just seemed natural and enticing so off came my gown. It was just sexy to see 15 or so gorgeous, personal-trainer-honed bodies rubbing oil (oh, did I mention the urns of warm oil that were set around the pool) on themselves and lounging in approximately 15 inches of water (did I fail to mention that no one had bothered taking off their jewelry which also added to the mystique) and drinking wine out of pewter goblets (and did I mention the two wine barrels with no tops so we could just dip our goblets into some of the best wine I’ve ever tasted – if the bottled wine was in the $thousands what the hell must those casks have cost??).
About 45 minutes into our lounging, I noticed that a couple of the girls had gotten awfully chummy. I have to admit, it was HOT and the mixture of it all had me bordering on untouched orgasm. Well, I had no idea how this was going to end.
It was probably 15 or 20 minutes later when I heard this low horn sound and all of a sudden, the ladies slowly got up and started moving towards the outer walls. I had no ideas what they were doing and I just stayed in the warmth of the water waiting to see what was happening.
To my utter surprise, out of the shadows came all of the guys from upstairs, naked and with these what, feathered bird-like masks on. I’m guessing that you see what’s coming well ahead of me because my reaction was mere fascination with what was happening. I’m lying there in 15 inches of warm water, totally inebriated and looking at 15 semi-rigid cocks all at eye level closing in on me. It was surreal.
Surreal soon morphed into poignant reality. I was about to be initiated into our friend’s exclusive club and that initiation included 15 ‘phases’ that I passed through over the course of the next 3 ½ hours.
Well, this is my first story and I’m finding that the details aren’t going to flow out through my fingers. Maybe in a subsequent story I’ll focus on these 3 ½ hours.
After my initiation was over, the men just left and the girls rejoined me in the pool where they catered to me like a princess being tended to by her handmaidens. They were so gentle, so reassuring that I found myself not only accepting but embracing their advances. I had, in the course of 5 hours, moved from a semi-normal woman to a fully initiated and indoctrinated what… what exactly am I… what are ‘we’ and what does this mean for the rest of my life. These were my thoughts as I drifted off to sleep.
