The next Mandingo party was scheduled for midsummer. There wasn’t really a theme, and the instructions were odd; I had no idea where they would lead. The husbands were asked to wear normal clothing—dressy, not junk. The wives were told to look sexy but the top had to be a white t-shirt. I thought that was very weird. We made plans to attend.
It felt awkward being around Julie in the days that followed her sexual encounter. I didn’t want to say anything to Cat, not knowing what she would say and or do.
Saturday night had arrived.
We made the drive to Boston again and settled into our suite at the hotel where the party was taking place. As usual, I watched Catherine dress in the room. She had decided to wear her newly dyed blonde hair up in a ponytail for a cutesier look. She put on a frilly white push-up bra and very hot looking teal hip hugger panties. She asked my opinion about what to wear on her bottom half. The choices were a short gray skirt, a pair of designer blue jeans with cool patterns on the pockets and a wide silver belt, and lastly a pair of white slacks that skimmed her tight little ass enticingly.
I liked them all and I certainly enjoyed the fashion show. We ended up going with the designer jeans. Simple and a good match for the white shirt, which she slipped over her head, tucked into her pants, and rolled up the sleeves. She looked cool—and sexy too. We made our way to the party room. At the entrance we again paid the couples’ fee of seventy-five dollars.
Inside the set-up was interesting, to say the least. The room was divided into two sections, separated by a curtain. A bar was located at the entrance, where we could see both sections at once. One side had what appeared to be the couples sitting together, and the other had only black studs. All the studs were sitting about chatting and laughing; whereas the couples with all ladies in white shirts were more reserved. We made our way to the couple’s section and did our best to say hello and get some conversation going. I grabbed Cat and myself some drinks from the bar.
Freddy, our tall black host, came over and announced the opening of the event. “Hello to all our friends and new guests tonight. Welcome to the party. This will be a simple affair, where all the ladies will cross over to the other side and meet and mingle with the single men. As for the husbands and boyfriends, I will ask you to remain on your side of the curtain. After the meet and greet is over we will remove the curtain and open the buffet. The DJ will spin some great music. As always we have open rooms for all guests to visit later in the evening. What y’all do in your own suites is totally up to you.”
I felt a sudden panic thinking about my wife alone in a room with all those hungry and horny men about. It was a nerve-racking image. The other husbands were feeling the same; I just knew it. One announced he’d buy the first waiting-game round for everyone; that seemed to relax the room some.
“Oh, one more thing,” Freddy yelled out, “The single guys over there all have sharpie pens. They are free to write on all the wives’ white t-shirts as to how they feel about them or anything else they wish to scribble on your ladies.” Then he grinned and disappeared behind the curtain. The wives and girlfriends—seventeen or eighteen of them—all stood and made way to the other side.
We husbands did our best to be patient. We sipped beers and drinks and chatted and went to the bar to get a peek at the activities on the other side. The wives were still just mingling with the studs and the aspect of the white t-shirts now came into play. The black dudes each had a sharpie marker and were having fun drawing and writing things on the wives’ white shirts. I was anxious to see what Catherine’s shirt would say.
Dirk walked in and I saw his redheaded pixie wife Sether trot on over to the other side of the big curtain. He came and sat by me and another husband named Brad. Dirk took a deep breath and started in, “Man, big rush tonight. Our daughter is sick and we had no sitter at first and … man, what a night so far!”
We chatted for about twenty minutes. Another guy sitting nearby whose girlfriend was on the other side also joined in. I learned a few things talking with Dirk and Brad. First off the other husbands knew Dirk’s Sether. She was jokingly referred to as “Sether Cocks”!
It seemed she’d made her way through all the Mandingo brothers and played with a few of the husbands at these parties as well. I can’t say that I was too surprised. She was strikingly hot with her short red hairstyle and little tight bod. Apparently she was now the so-called “property” of Charles. Charles of course was the bald, sexy, lean black guy I had seen them with at that first masquerade party. It was said that he was the most charming of all the brothers at these parties.
The band finally began to play, beginning with mellow pop music. The guys told me they would switch to a more upbeat dance rep once the ladies returned.
I heard something of interest about another guy, who the hubbies called the anaconda. The name left little to the imagination, as he was the best endowed of all the men who attended these parties.
The wives and girlfriends returned and everyone was invited to help themselves from the buffet. The guys were all eager to see what was written on the ladies’ shirts and to hear details of their conversations with the bulls. Catherine’s shirt was well scribbled on.
“It was fun!” she reported. “Some of the guys were real silly while others were more serious. I thought they were all really nice.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. “Let’s eat. I’m starving!” she said.
I read her shirt as we waited in line at the buffet.
“Let’s get together!”
“Hot hot hot.”
“I like what I see.”
“My type of lady.”
There was more. Once we sat back down I read, “I’m here to take you on an ecstasy ride—the Anaconda.” I also read, “I want to remove this t-shirt,” “Welcome to the party,” and, “This brother is here to make you happy. Smile!”
I asked her if she knew what was next on the agenda. Cat sipped her drink and smiled up at me. She turned to reveal another message written on her side in writing so small I almost needed my reading glasses, “Next time it’s you and me. Your soft lips look so delightful, and I must sample your lotus nectar.”
“Who’s that from?” I asked.
Before she could answer me, other couples were asking us questions and we were fully occupied chatting with the party folk in the hall. The music grew louder and peppier and people hit the dance floor.
There were husbands dancing with their wives, and black men ready to pounce if an opportunity to cut in presented itself. Girlfriends were available as were wives—all white and all looking for steamy fun. Charles, who I guessed wrote the love note to Cat, had already joined Dirk and Sether at our table. He smiled with his beautiful white teeth and looked very handsome in his dark blue suit. He flirted with the girls and both Sether and Catherine were lost in his whispers. Whatever he said was making them laugh.
The music was so loud that I had trouble following the conversation, and I certainly couldn’t hear what Charles was saying to Cat. As the night wore on, just seeing these black men take the white girls to the dance floor and snuggle close or shake their bodies together was quite hot. All eyes were on these handsome men, more physically compatible than the husbands or boyfriends, as they worked their magic on the dance floor. The thought of what was to come made me giddy with anticipation.
Catherine wanted to dance with Charles and before I knew it, both she and Sether had dragged him onto the dance floor. I seized the opportunity to ask Dirk what the scoop was with Charles and his wife Sether. He told me that they were dating and sort of exclusive. “Charles is a charmer, and the ladies love ‘Charles in Charge,’ ” he added.
“But why?” I asked in all seriousness.
Dirk went on. “First off, his good looks, his loving smile and teasing style. Next, he’s pretty cut and chiseled and his entire body is shaven smooth as a baby’s butt. The women love that.”
I shook my head but listened closely.
“Old Charles has quite a tool as well,” Dirk added.
“What do you mean?” I asked eagerly.
“He’s got a big slog, dude,” Dirk blurted out. “It’s not that he’s long—although he is good-sized—it’s that he’s thick and his cockhead is humongous.”
Eventually couples begin to take off with the guys of their choosing. Some of us still mingled in the big party room. Everyone at our table was gone by eleven. The hotel hallway was slowing down too.
I made my way to the bathroom outside the dance room and ran into Sam—the fellow we had partied with at the last Mandingo event. He said hello and we shook hands. He was with a couple, and the woman had already exchanged her t-shirt ensemble for a silvery blue skintight dress. All smiles, she took him by the hand and led him to the nearby elevator, her husband following a few steps behind. It appeared Sam was in for a good nightcap.
I returned to our seated area where only Catherine remained seated. She gave me a kiss and said it was a fun night. I felt awkward about the fact that we had not hooked up with anyone. Dirk and Sether took Charles away early on, and we kind of had no other choices left to hook up with. We stood and headed back to our suite. The hotel was just about shut down by the time we entered the main lobby area.
As we headed up to our floor, we noticed a room with an open door and people gathered about. This was an open playroom. Inside we saw two heavy-set white ladies entertaining four men of color. One woman in a red garter belt and stockings had a huge set of tits. They played and frolicked on the bed while two couples and another black guy watched. For a little while, Catherine was a voyeur with me but for her the scene fueled her desire for the real thing.
The women sucked the black cocks of the males and then got banged doggy style, face to face. They cried out in lust as we all looked on.
I heard one of the guys in the room—the white boyfriend of the lady on the bed in the red garter belt—say something that caught my interest. He was speaking to the other white guy next to him. “Where are the other young hot girls tonight?” he asked. “The single hard bodies?” I wasn’t sure what he meant until he added, “These guys only bring them here to make fun of us husbands and boyfriends. They’re here to make us fail, placed in the mix to confirm we can’t handle a hot chick. Twice already I tried and they humiliated me in front of my wife.” Once I heard his cry of shame, I understood exactly the situation I had been placed in at the last party.
Catherine grabbed my arm and led me out of the open sex room. She grabbed my crotch and winked at me. We went back to our suite and she whispered in my ear, “Michael, I want you. I need a good screw!” She was definitely tipsy and in the mood.
I wasn’t sure what to do. I knew I could not do a whole hell of a lot to satisfy her itch. I fiddled with the hotel key card and finally opened the door. Just as we were about to go in, a tall rugged black fellow came out of a nearby elevator. Catherine yelled to him, “Hey, what are you doing? Where on earth have you been? Come here!”
The big guy strode down the hall to us and nodded to me. Catherine gave him this huge hug and practically jumped on top of him.
He explained his disappearance. “My sister’s water pipe burst, and I had to shoot over to her place. It was a huge mess.”
He began to go over the details, but Cat stopped him. “It doesn’t matter, darlin’,” she drawled. “You’re here now.” She grabbed him and pulled him into our room. “I have my anaconda now!” she proclaimed giddily as the door closed behind us.