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Midsummer 2
WARNING: This includes sexually explicit material.
Please note any unfamiliar spellings and phrases may be due to the fact
I am English, not American.
I would like to thank the proof-readers for all their help
Any comments, including constructive criticisms, would be most
appreciated. Please send to artemis55@hotmail.com
This work is copyrighted by the author. You may download and keep one
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other than the archive or Dejanews, or to a newsgroup requires my
permission first (but I'll probably say yes). This should not, under
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======================================================================
Midsummer Night's Orgy Vickie Morgan
Chapter Two
Natalie decided to tackle the organisation of an orgy in the same way
she would organise anything else. The only difference was she couldn't get
her secretary to take care of the little details. She had a sudden image
of Miss Munroe's face if she asked her to find a dozen or so studs for an
orgy. Her face would pucker up like she had bitten into a lemon, her
scraggly eyebrows would rise and her thin lips would fold in on themselves.
It was almost tempting to ask her just to watch her reaction. She would
shake her head, draw her self up and clutch her notepad against her chest
like a protective shield before saying 'I'll do my best, Miss Benton.' in
her usual martyred tones. Still, she had worked hard to earn a reputation
for professionalism and she didn't want to ruin it just to wind up her
secretary.
It did bring up the major problem: men. The major ingredient of an orgy
was plenty of men. Dawn would probably be able to round up a few, she
always seemed to know plenty of flaky people. It was hard to envision
Rebecca being able to find many in her everyday suburban existence.
Although she had never actually attended an orgy, she calculated that at
least twelve would be needed for the three of them. So somehow she had
to find about ten willing and able men.
She mentally ran over a list of her male acquaintances. Most of them
were business contacts. The few she had dated had rarely lasted more then
a couple of weeks. They had all been serious career obsessed men, not the
kind to roll around on a beach having uninhibited sex. So she would have
to find the necessary somewhere else. The simplest way would be to
advertise. It took her a few minutes to draft out a suitable
advertisement. 'Men wanted for an orgy. Please supply photos, genuine
names and addresses so background checks can be made. No time wasters
please.' Natalie knew a policeman who owed her a few favours, she was sure
he wouldn't mind running a few checks for her. The advertisement sounded
businesslike enough and covered all the essentials. She would send it to
as many personal columns as she could find. Hopefully there would be
enough responses that she would be able to pick and choose.
The next most important thing was to check the date. She had a vague
idea it was June 21st or 22nd. She wasn't too sure exactly how where to
look. Her filofax had no mention of Midsummer's Night or the solstice.
Bank Holidays, full moons and Father's Day were all clearly marked, but not
the information she needed.
Exasperated, she turned to the Internet. She had quite a lot of other
things to organise yet, not to mention a whole pile of work papers she
still had to go through. She decided to pick someone else's brains,
instead of searching the web herself. So she answered the e-mails in her
Inbox, a long overdue job, and tacked her query on the end. Janey had
replied before she had logged off. With her customary efficiency, Janey
had found a website and copied and mailed her the salient points.
According to the Farmer's Almanac 'the timing of the summer solstice
depends on when the Sun reaches its farthest point north of the equator.
This occurs annually sometime between June 20 and June 22. This year
(1999), it occurs exactly at 3:49 P.M., EDT, on June 21, (circa 9:49 or
10:49 a.m. British summer time)'.
Natalie wondered for a moment whether Midsummer's Night was the same as
the solstice. Then she decided it didn't matter. This was their orgy,
there were no hard and fast rules. With that in mind, she decided that she
would arrange their celebration to start on Sunday, 20th June. It would
probably be easier for most people to come on a Sunday night rather than a
Monday.
Satisfied on that point. Natalie moved onto more practical matters.
Even though it was the official start of summer, England's weather couldn't
be depended on. The last few years at Wimbledon had shown that it could
quite happily rain cats and dogs whatever the season. If they didn't want
rain to stop play it would be sensible to take precautions. Tents seemed
the simplest solution. Not the ones which took hour to put up while you
tried to figure out which pole was Part C and why it wouldn't fit into Part
D like it was supposed to. She would get one of the modern ones that were
held together with springs and virtually put themselves up. If it stayed
dry they could roll the sides up to let in the evening air while still
having some measure of privacy.
A plentiful supply of condoms were another essential, along with
somewhere to dispose of them and boxes of tissues to clean up with. Wine
would be a good idea to help loosen everyone up. Natalie knew she would
need some even if no one else did. Low alcoholic beer would do for the
men. After all, it wouldn't do for them to drink too much and not be able
to rise to the occasion. A couple of cool-boxes to store the drinks in
would be needed. facilities would be needed too, as the beach was
miles from civilisation. Natalie added a camping to her list. Some
crisps and biscuits to snack on would help to keep everyone's strength up.
She chewed the top of her pen while she tried to think what else they would
need. Something comfortable to lie on. Air mattresses were too bouncy
with more than one person on them so some kind of foam mattresses seemed
the best option. Presumably she would be able to get them from the camping
equipment shop, along with everything else. She considered getting a
camping stove in case anyone wanted hot drinks, but in the end decided
against it. There would be the fire to keep everyone warm in between
bouts. Which reminded her, firestarters and cigarette lighters to make sure
they got the fire started. They would also need wood. In her experience,
driftwood was never as plentiful as expected. She would get a camping
kettle and they could put it on the fire to heat. She would need to take
some milk, tea and coffee but there was a tiny stream that came out halfway
up the cliff face they could use for water.
She looked at her list, and added a car to it. There was no way she
would be able to pack all of the equipment into her MG. She thought her
parents would let her have their car for the weekend. She sketched out a
map to the beach and scanned it into the computer. It was a tiny cove at
the end of a dirt track in the middle of nowhere. It was a tricky scramble
to the bottom but it was possible. Natalie added ropes to her list. After
thinking for a moment, she put down a tape recorder. Some background music
might be nice. She pondered a little longer, then put away the list,
satisfied she had thought of everything. She put the orgy out of her mind
and turned her attention to her work.
Dawn was pleased to see Natalie's letter. Peter had eventually come
round to collect his belongings. One thing had lead to another and he had
ended up staying the weekend. Dawn had foolishly thought that they were
back together. She had been devastated when he had picked up his box and
prepared to walk out. They had started arguing and some hurtful things had
been said on both sides. Dawn was still upset and she welcomed any
distraction.
It appeared that Natalie, as usual, had everything well organised. The
maps were a good idea. Dawn ran off some photocopies and put them in her
bag to take to her evening art class. She was hurrying out of the
photocopying room when she ran straight into two of her co-workers. Her
bag skidded off one way and her papers flew off in the opposite direction
while she ended up on her hands and knees. She pushed her hair back from
her face and looked up to see the two worst possible people in the world
looking down at her: the head of the clinic, Ben Martin, and Rob Anderson,
the reflexologist. She needed to make a good impression on Ben, as he was
technically her boss. Rob was one of the few people she completely
disliked. He thought aromatherapy wasn't a valid treatment and he made it
obvious that he thought Dawn was too irresponsible. She had several times
pointed out that there was just as much scientific evidence backing up
aromatherapy as there was upholding reflexology. He just listened
patiently and gave her a tolerant smile, before ignoring everything she had
said. They both courteously bent to help her pick her belongings up.
Dawn made a grab for the maps, but Ben got there first. He raised an
eyebrow as he handed them to Dawn, and she devoutly wished she hadn't
written 'This way to the orgy of the millennium' across the top in big
letters. She gave him a weak smile and decided there was no point trying
to explain the unexplainable. She got to her feet and accepted her bits
and pieces before making as swift an exit as she could.
She handed out the maps to the in her art class. She got on well
with them all and quite often went to the pub with them. There were a few
teasing remarks but no one seemed horrified at the idea. She just hoped
none of them mentioned the orgy to Peter, who some of them knew. Nothing
would more surely ruin the atmosphere of an orgy as her ex-boyfriend
turning up.
Rebecca had managed to forget all about the orgy. Nearly. Except late
at night when she couldn't sleep. Then she couldn't help wondering what it
would be like, if she ever dared to go through with it. Making love all
night in the moonlight. Except it wouldn't be making love, it would be raw
mindless sex. She was ashamed to realise that the idea excited her. Her
married life seemed to have fallen into a routine of a making love a couple
of times on a weekend and Bank Holidays and Christmas. She could remember
the early days of their relationship when they couldn't keep their hands
off each other. Before all the passion was eroded away by day-to-day
stresses and strains.
It wasn't until Natalie's letter arrived that Rebecca was forced to face
reality. With her customary efficiency, Natalie had sent several copies of
the map, with the date and time on, 'to give to the men' the accompanying
note said. The official start time was eight o'clock in the evening but
Natalie said she would be there from about six getting set up. She also
suggested that they should aim to invite a minimum of four each.
Rebecca sat on the sofa staring at the words 'four men'. Where on earth
was she supposed to find four willing to attend an orgy? Ask some of
Tony's work colleagues? Put a notice on the board at the supermarket?
Rebecca shuddered at the idea. She stood up and dumped the maps in a desk
drawer. She would just go at six, help get set up and see her friends
again, and then explain that she couldn't stay as she had another
appointment she couldn't cancel. They would probably think she was
chickening out, but she couldn't help that. After all, she was a
respectable woman and respectable women didn't attend
orgies. Her mind made up, she tried to get on with her usual chores and
forget about the orgy.
She was handing Tony his tray of food that night when he startled her by
asking about her letter from Natalie.
"I recognised her writing," he explained when he saw how surprised she
was. "All spiky and aggressive, just like her. So how come she's phoning
and writing to you all of a sudden?"
"I told you the other day, we're all meeting up on Midsummer's Night. I
knew you weren't listening."
"Sorry love. So what have you got planned?" he asked. "I take it
Dawn's going to be there too."
"Yep, all three of us together again," Rebecca said, smiling at the
thought.
"The Three Witches reunited, what a thought," Tony said. "What are you
going to do? A couple of human sacrifices? A wild orgy?"
"We thought we'd skip the sacrifices and just have the orgy," Rebecca
told him, wondering how he'd react.
"An orgy," he repeated, giving her an enigmatic look.
"Uh-uh. Why do you have a problem with that?" she challenged.
"Hey, I wouldn't dream of telling you what to do," Tony replied quickly.
"If Natalie's organising this shindig there's no need to ask if I'm
invited. That woman hates my guts."
"If you'd be a bit nicer to her, you might find that you two got on
better," Rebecca said automatically, tried to decide if she was
disappointed or pleased by his reaction.
"I'll pass, thank you. It would be like being nicer to a scorpion, it
would still sting you. I wonder if she still dresses all in black with all
that black lipstick. No wonder she's such a good lawyer, the judges are
all terrified of her. I know I would be."
"You're just being silly now," Rebecca said. "I'm not having this
argument about Natalie again."
"Well she's the last person I want to talk about," Tony said. "Anyway,
the match is starting."
Rebecca half-heartedly picked at her meal, watching Tony become absorbed
in his football. She cleared away their plates and went upstairs to take a
shower. If Tony didn't care about her going to an orgy, she was starting
to think she might go after all. She could say that she had invited a
couple of but wasn't too sure if they were coming or not. She was sure
neither Dawn nor Natalie would mind.
Towelling herself dry she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror.
She took a moment to examine herself. She had to admit she had let herself
go a bit; far too many curves in all the wrong places, to put it nicely.
From the photographs she had seen in the newspapers she knew Natalie was
just as tall and slim as she had been at university. Her was cut
short, giving her an added air of elegance. Dawn had always had a curvy
figure, and whenever she had put on weight it had just increased her
curves. Besides, her mane of bright curly hair and her bright blue eyes
always distracted attention away from any flaws. Rebecca had no such
assets. Her hair had faded to nondescript brown and her skin had a
sallow hue from lack of sun. If she didn't want to be the frump of the
party she had a lot of work to do, and only a month to do it in.
Copyright Vickie Morgan, 1999 E-mail artemis55@hotmail.com
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