Action II

Dancing

While Lisa, Alina and Sonya finished setting the table and adding more seats, Nastya and Irene took the men to the guesthouse and showed them where they could spend the night. The Africans complained that they had to stay in the same clothes they had come in. Nastya joked that their gorgeous bodies would be a great addition to the girls’ dresses, Irene encouraged the flirting and suggested that the handsome guests sit one by one between the girls so that each beauty would be courted by a beau. Nastya managed to explain the idea in English to Lamar, who nodded in understanding.

“Your house — your rules!”

“U hoere — ons lede (Your whores — our cocks)!” Prince echoed it so that only the boys could hear. They laughed and patted each other on the back in agreement.



“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Alina asked her best friend Lisa as she took the pizza out of the oven. She was arranging the bottles of wine and drinks the Africans had brought on the table.

“Why not?” Lisa replied. “You know, I haven’t enjoyed the company of men for so long that I’m actually glad that Vitya left. Thanks to your husband, by the way, he would hardly have gone alone.”

“That’s for sure. They’re inseparable, they’d rather stare at the water than dance with their wives…”

“You don’t say!’‘ Alina was supported by her friend. “And it was not just about dancing!”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… you know.”

“Uh—huh?”

“I told you that Victor and I are trying to have a baby,” Lisa put the bottle on the table louder than it deserved. The plates and glasses rattled.

“You did,’‘ Alina nodded. “And how’s that?”

“Absolutely nothing!” Lisa growled angrily. “Excuse me for the details, but how can I get pregnant when my husband prefers camping and friends to sex with his own wife? And when we do get it going, it lasts about five minutes. I can’t even get aroused in that time. I’m tired of him coming as soon as he puts his dick in my vagina. Every time I feel like my husband is winning some kind of shitty racing championship.”

Alina laughed.

“I think Kyrill can also compete with him.”

“Really?” Lisa was surprised. “I thought… You don’t have a problem with that.”

“I wish we did’t,” Alina sighed. “The sex isn’t bad, but lately he’s getting off earlier than he should. And this constant “I’m tired”, “I have to get up early tomorrow” … If he didn’t sit at the computer so much, he wouldn’t get tired!”

“Oh, girl, I think we both need to spend some time with real men!”

The girls laughed.

“If only to spend,” Alina clarified. “I’m not as open as our desperate Nastya.”

“That’s for sure,” Lisa confirmed. “She seemed ready to sleep with all of them at once, even though she had the most alpha-male guy. Remember Anton?”

“You bet I do! Handsome, it’s a shame they didn’t get together.”

“Let’s see, maybe they’ll get together again,’‘ Lisa suggested, arranging the napkins on the edge of the table.

“I think Nastya will find herself a new alpha male today,” Alina giggled.

“Maybe a few,” Lisa winked at her friend. “We’ll remain unnoticed, as always.”

“Judging by the way they’re staring at you, girls, Nastya isn’t the only one who’s going to have some fun tonight,” came Sonia’s voice, who had returned from the cellar with several more bottles of alcohol. Alina and Lisa looked at each other and blushed. At that moment Irene’s head poked through the kitchen door – she, Nastya and the Africans had returned to the house.

“All right, chefs? Is everything ready?”

A few minutes later, everyone was seated at the table. At Irene’s suggestion, there was a rotation of black guys and girls. Nastya sat at the head of the table as the main celebrant. To her right was Lamar and to her left was Prince. Next to Lamar, as his old acquaintance, sat Lisa, to her right – very muscular Jared. Next was Alina, then Tyrell, as tall as a basketball player with the figure of Apollo, and after him Irene. Simon, the smallest of the guys, took a seat between her and Sonya. On the other side of young Sonya sat Prince, who looked at the girl with a strangely predatory expression. But he was looking not so much at Sonya as at her long legs, hidden under the table and adorned with dark stockings.

It seemed as if the Africans were sitting like that for a reason. Each of the male clearly enjoyed looking at the curves of their neighbors’ bodies, which were only accentuated, not hidden, by the beauties’ outfits. Perhaps only Prince looked at all the beautiful women at once with a vulgar gaze.

The toasts began. First to the meeting, of course, then to the birthday girl, her house, her parents, the wonderful food and the girls who prepared it. After almost all the salads were eaten, four bottles of wine were drunk, and the plates of pizza and pies were half emptied, the guys decided to move on to stronger drinks. On the table appeared African rum, expensive whiskey and a few more bottles of alcoholic beverages of the strangest and most daring colors the girls had ever seen. There were still a few bottles of wine on the table, but Lisa, Nastya and Irene expressed a desire to try what the men had brought. At least a sip.

It did not escape Alina’s attention that Prince and Lamar glanced at each other as they poured the poison-blue drink into glasses, but she did not pay much attention.