Key to a Party Pt. 01

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Ben’s Story

I got home from work around 6 on the Wednesday night of our first week living there and my darling wife Susan greeted me with the news that we had been invited to a party this coming Saturday night.

My first reaction was, “Who would invite us, nobody knows us here yet?”

You see, Susan and I had just taken the plunge and uprooted from our old hometown, left all our friends, everybody and everything that was familiar to us, and came halfway across the country to start a new life. In spite of being quite ambitious where my career is concerned, I don’t think I could have made that decision on my own, that would have been so unfair to Sue … to leave all of her lifelong friends behind just so I could further my career ambitions..

No, she was actually the motivation for all of this, right from when I told her that I had been head-hunted by a consultancy firm to fill this key position. Oh God, there’s that word, key. It seems to be cropping up in our lives a fair bit lately, but I’m jumping ahead of myself, I best tell you our story in the sequence in which it occurred.

I am Ben – sometimes Benny, but never the Benjamin that appears on my birth certificate. Sue and I married surprisingly young – she was 22 and me, I was 23 – when you consider how most marriages these days start when the pair are in their late twenties, even early thirties. So perhaps we didn’t sow as many wild oats as some other couples, but we were both pretty emphatic that we had found the right partner, and it seems to have worked out well.

We brought up 21 years married just a few days before we made this big move out west. We had a big party for our wedding anniversary that doubled as a Going Away party and it seemed like everybody we’d ever known was there. Of course, our kids were – we’ve got two, a pigeon pair, that’s what they call it, a boy and a girl, Jeremy and Caroline. They haven’t made the move with us because they had both already left home for college, stepping out into the big wide world.

So as I was saying, from the moment I got the job offer, it seems like Susan has been the one most keen for me to take it. I have to admit that I was confident that I had all the necessary qualifications but she was the one who would lose so much … so many friends and such a big social life just for one. I mean, I’ll be at work 9 or 10 hours a day, Monday to Friday, but how will she fill her time?

As I have progressively moved up the corporate ladder in recent years, my income has risen proportionately to the work responsibility and about a year ago, we jointly made the decision that Susan didn’t need to work any more, she could lead a life of leisure. I wasn’t envious of her, I thought she’d earned it, a nice reward for the many years she had pushed herself holding down a full-time job while maintaining our home and being the integral part of raising our two kids.

So there you have it, at 43 and 44, Susan and I (Ben) relocated to a new city, a new job for me, a nice new home in the ‘burbs for both of us in a good neighbourhood but knowing virtually nobody.

“So honey, who would invite us to a party?”

“Ben, I had a visit from three women today, they were a welcome wagon, they said, offering the hand of friendship to us in our new neighbourhood.”

“Oh, that’s nice … they weren’t missionaries from the Mormons, were they?”

“Oh darling, you’re always so suspicious. No, three lovely ladies, all from up and down our street, they said they themselves knew what it was like to move into a new area where you don’t know anybody. So they’ve invited me to come over for coffee tomorrow morning and they also extended an invitation to some party on Saturday night.”

“Is the party here in this street?”

“No, I don’t think so, it is this suburb, but I think it’s a few blocks away, they said we’d need to drive. I guess we could walk if you wanted to, but you’re not exactly the keenest when it comes to exercise, are you?”

“No, that’s fine, we’ll drive. So did you tell them we’d go.”

“I wouldn’t be that presumptuous Ben, I wanted to ask you first.”

“Oh, that’s very thoughtful honey, but I think we should go, it sounds like a good chance for us to meet a few people quickly. So do you want to tell those ladies yes when you see them in the morning?”

“No, they’re just guests, none of them are holding the party, they gave me a number to call.”

“I hope it’s ok … them inviting us.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, some of the guests inviting us to someone else’s party, someone we’ve never met.”

“They said it would be alright, indicated that they’d checked with the party host if it was alright to invite us.”

“Ok, so long as they’ve cleared that. How about you call in the morning and tell them we’re coming.”

At the Party

We were still so new in this city, we had literally moved here just eight days ago and I had started work on the Monday. And here we were on the Saturday escort bahçelievler evening, turning up to our first social gathering. The house for the party was about four blocks from our place and the weather was mildly threatening, showers were a possibility. That gave me an excuse for us not to walk.

We parked the car and as we approached the front door, Susan grasped my hand tightly, pleading, “Ben, don’t leave my side for a moment, please. You know how I find starting up conversations with people we don’t know much harder than you.”

I assured her that I would keep her with me as we mingled among the party guests. I was accustomed to doing this in my line of work and I described it to Susan often as ‘working the room.’

Our hosts greeted us at the front door and they seemed a pleasant enough couple, I’d guess in their early fifties, but certainly according to Susan, as enthusiastically welcoming as the three women who had come to the house as a welcome wagon on Wednesday. It seemed like this was a nice town with nice people in it.

We began to mingle and the people we met were mostly quite friendly and keen to hear of our great adventure in leaving all our family and friends behind to move out west.

Despite her initial insecurity, I noticed after about an hour, that Susan wasn’t standing alongside me and I casually looked around, scanning the room for her while attempting to maintain the discussion I was in with three other guests. After about ten minutes, I spotted Susan across the room and politely excused myself from the group I was with to go across to her. She was standing on her own, holding a drink.

But before I could reach her, a couple stepped up to her and spoke. It looked like they were introducing themselves and I decided not to interrupt. I figured it was important for Susan to brush up on the skills of feeling comfortable in meeting new people so I made a late detour and headed off to find the bathroom. There was a queue so I patiently waited, fortunate that I had a bladder that would let me, and used the time in the line to try to rationalise why women invariably took longer than men in there.

Alright girls, I know all the old arguments. We guys have only got to unzip and we’re good to go while you lot have to lift skirts up and draw down panties, maybe pantihose too. And then there’s that old chestnut that you girls have got more to do in there.

Anyway, about ten minutes passed in the queue and then barely 30 seconds to get the job done until I made my way back into the main room and was pleased to see that Susan was now involved in a big group with three other women and two men. I guessed that the women may have been that welcome wagon group from last Wednesday. Anyway, I left them to it and wandered around until I found some people I hadn’t met yet.

There was plenty of finger food as well as drinks and the evening was passing by pleasantly. It was 10.30 before Susan and I found ourselves in the same space once more. “So how are you doing honey?” I checked.

“Oh, really good darling, I’ve met so many people tonight and they all seem so nice. But what’s more important right now is that I’ve found something out about this party … or at least I think I have.”

“Oh really, what’s that, is there anything wrong? Is it a birthday or anniversary, should we have brought a present along?”

“No Ben, nothing like that. Darling, what’s a key party?”

I had never been to a key party, but I thought I knew. I had heard work colleagues talking about the concept a few years ago. “Why, who said it was a key party?”

“Oh, a couple of the girls I was talking to. I didn’t query it with them, didn’t really react in any way, i didn’t want to show my embarrassment at not knowing. I couldn’t wait to ask you, I figured you’d know.”

“Well, I’m not totally sure, but I think it might be where all the guys throw their keys into a bowl or jar and the women at the party get to pull out a set of keys and drive off with the owner of the keys.”

“What? Oh my God, what have we got ourselves into?”

“Are you sure this is a key party. Maybe it’s unofficial, something they do when only the hard-nosed party goers are left. We could perhaps slip away early so we don’t get caught up in some key lottery.”

“One of the girls showed me a copy of the printed invitation. Of course, we didn’t get one because those girls that dropped by the other day just extended an invite verbally.”

“So how do you want to handle this honey? Do you want us to just go tell the hosts that we’re leaving early and thank them for their hospitality?”

“Oh, that would be so embarrassing, us being the only two to leave early.”

“Well Sue, it depends what degree of embarrassment you want. Is it best to leave early or stay and have to pick out a set of keys and find you have to drive off with some guy who turns out to be a sleaze and expects you to suck his cock in the front seat of his car.”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t escort balgat want that.”

“Well honey, we can find the hosts and tell them you have a headache, a migraine even, whatever.”

“Why is it always the woman who has something wrong, why couldn’t you have a headache or a toothache or something ailing you?”

We ended up taking too long to work out who was going to have an ailment that would prevent us from playing their key game. The party host Alan suddenly called for quiet and announced, “Ok everyone, the key moment has arrived, and I’m sure you all know what I mean. Now my darling wife is moving amongst you with one of our best glass bowls for all the men to deposit their sets of keys in. No peeping ladies to see which set of keys the guy you like most is depositing.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key ring that had what looked like an imitation phallus hanging from it, although smaller than the real thing. “Of course, as host, I get to show all the women what my keys look like … fight over them girls.”

“What do we do now?” my wife asked in a panic.

“We’ll just go over and tell him we’re leaving.”

“No Ben, we can’t do that, he’s standing in the middle of the room, we’ll be the centre of attention. That’s no way to make a good impression in our new home town. We’ll be labelled the wowsers straight up.”

“Well, it’s now or never honey. If we don’t go now, you’ll have to weasel out of making out with some guy all by yourself, without me around to hep you fight him off.”

“I’ll have to take that chance darling, I’m not going to have a spotlight thrown on us like we’re a pair of pariahs.”

As if to cement Susan’s decision, Alan’s voice filled the room once more, “Of course, anyone is free to leave now and not participate in the key game, but it wouldn’t look nice for you to accept our food and drink all night and then leave without paying the piper.” There was a loud chorus of “No’s” to endorse his call for the timid ones to leave early and I looked at Susan and we both realised we were in for the full count.

The host’s wife Glenda reached us with the glass bowl, it was already half full of sets of keys. “Ah,” she greeted us, “the newbies, what an adventure you’re on. You’re lucky, everybody will be be new to you tonight, so it doesn’t matter who you get.”

I slipped my hand into my pocket and grasped my set of keys. I looked at Susan for as long a moment as I could afford and when there was no reaction back, I pulled my hand out and threw my keys into the bowl. Glenda moved on, sealing our fate, Susan would be driving off with some stranger and – I hadn’t contemplated this yet – but I would be driven away by one of the women I saw assembled before me. I wasn’t sure how I could handle the former to appreciate enjoying the latter.

Glenda returned to stand alongside her husband, holding the glass bowl up very high. It was quite full with the bulk of some of the sets of keys. Alan called for silence and then his wife announced, “There’s always an argument among some of the girls as to who’s turn it is to go first. Well, tonight we have a new couple here so Susan, come on up, you get to have first pick.”

I thought for a moment that my wife, standing alongside me, was going to freeze on the spot. She had a moment’s hesitation where I actually thought she might tell them to all go fuck themselves and storm out. But then, with only a cursory glance at me she slowly moved up, threading her way between guests until she stood as the centre of attention – which she hates – looking into the glass bowl.

Before she could plunge her hand in to select a set of keys, Alan announced, “I can smell the testosterone in the room tonight with all you guys wanting to have a crack at the new one. Well, there can only be one winner…” His voice dropped an octave or two and he turned toward my wife and added, “My keys are the ones with the replica cock and balls on them. You’re allowed to forage around in the bowl until you find them.”

He followed it with a dirty laugh, but his wife mellowed the moment by telling Susan, “Ignore the pompous old bastard honey, he actually still thinks he’s a catch. Just reach in and select any set.”

It was an incredible feeling to watch my loving wife of 21 years reach her hand into the enormous glass bowl and take out a set of keys belonging to some other man in this room. What did I feel … anxiety, apprehension … I would have doubted there was any excitement. My mouth went dry, my heart seemed to beat a little harder but strangely my cock jerked in my pants and I was really puzzled at that involuntary reaction.

Susan lifted out a set of keys and turned timidly to hold them aloft. I guessed that Glenda had whispered to her to do that because it didn’t seem something that would come naturally to my wife.

From somewhere off to my left, I heard what could best be described as a whoop of joy and a male voice called out, “What a present and it’s not even my birthday.”

There escort batıkent was a general murmur of laughter around the room and another male voice – probably one of the guy’s mates – could be heard, “You are such a lucky stiff Brad.” That prompted another male to speak up, “Yeah, stiff, that’s what he’ll be. Go get her Brad.” The amount of alcohol consumed through the evening was obviously working a treat on some of the assembled men in the room.

I couldn’t see him at first – this guy Brad whose keys my wife held in her probably sweating hand – but then I spotted this guy pushing through the throng. Despite the sleazy comments of his buddies, he looked quite ok, pleasant enough face, neatly attired. Susan shouldn’t be repulsed by his outward appearance.

I turned my attention back to her, still standing in the centre of the room alongside our hosts. She looked decidedly nervous and didn’t know what to do when the man at last got through and reached his hand out to take hers. He leaned his face forward and I saw my wife realise at the last moment that he was actually going to kiss her in front of all these people. She stole a quick glance in my direction but then her face was obscured by the back of the man’s head as their lips met and the crowd cheered raucously.

I wondered what the procedure was … were they expected to leave immediately, getting a head start on the rest of us, or would they wait, standing together as if they were a happily married couple, until the rest of the keys were claimed by the remaining women?

I stood back here in among the assembled guests watching my wife closely and wondering what she might be thinking at that moment. Was she nervous, concerned, what would she do when Brad and she were alone, how far would she let him go … would she actually let him fuck her?

I regretted that Susan and I hadn’t had any parting words. I hadn’t been able to reassure her that everything would be alright between us in spite of what might be about to occur for both of us. This had been thrust upon us unexpectedly and I wanted her to know that I loved her no matter what she should choose to do when she was alone with this man.

As the lottery drawing moved on, it appeared that Susan and her companion were to stand there and wait until all the others had paired up. Other pairings were now joining them in the centre of the room. I was able to study this man a bit more closely. He was a bit younger than us, I’d say perhaps in his late thirties. He wore a neat check shirt, open neck with long sleeves, his dark hair was shortish. He stood there holding on to Susan’s hand. My wife still looked quite embarrassed but I thought she began to settle as more newly matched couples joined them, minimising the spotlight on her.

I wasn’t even paying attention to the continuing ritual of drawing out the keys. I hadn’t noticed the attractive young woman holding aloft a set of keys and beginning to show disappointment that nobody was claiming them. You know what … I recognised my wife’s voice, calling out to me from behind the woman holding up the keys. Susan yelled, “Ben, aren’t they yours?”

Shaken quickly from my distracted reverie, I diverted my attention to the very attractive young woman and saw that indeed, the keys she held aloft were mine. “Oh, err … yes, they look like mine.”

As I was identified as the owner of those keys, the gregarious hostess Glenda raised her not insubstantial voice once more, “Oh Michelle, you are the lucky one … you’ve got the other half of the newbies. You’re gonna have to call me tomorrow and tell me how he is. I want to hear everything … and don’t leave out a thing.”

I was lost in a trance, yet to fully comprehend that my wife was about to drive off to who knows where with a man she had only just met with a kiss. Now I looked around this large living room to see all eyes upon me, identified as the new man in town and suddenly aware that this very attractive young woman called Michelle was anxiously waiting for me to walk up and claim her. Should I do as that man Brad had just done with my wife and kiss Michelle when I reached her, was that the accepted protocol at these parties, in this atmosphere that I was so unfamiliar with? But already I felt awkward about doing that, about kissing this attractive young woman … not that it wouldn’t be a pleasurable experience but she was standing right beside my wife?

I began to move toward centre stage … there were still enough guests not yet partnered up that I had to press my way through the gaps. My legs felt heavy and it was an effort to take the few steps necessary to join my wife and the woman alongside her who had picked out my keys – this woman who was possibly about to become my wife’s temporary surrogate for the next few hours.

At last, after what seemed to be a marathon hike instead of ten simple steps, I reached Michelle and feeling that it seemed to be the customary thing to do at this stage at these parties, I leaned in to kiss her. I expected it to be a chaste kiss similar to that which Susan had bestowed on Brad, but this young woman had other ideas. Still clasping my keys in one hand, she brought the other up to the back of my head and held me firmly while our lips met and I felt hers part immediately and her tongue forcing its way into my mouth.

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