“You know the empty warehouse that one of the former business operations used? That's gonna be it. Lotsa floor space, restrooms, even got the plumbing for a bar.”
“How did you hear about the party?”
“Oh, some of the girls were talking about it.”
(It would appear that some of the people who have been rudely transplanted to Angle River might just want to try some new pussy or cock, possibly with the idea of changing partners. It works for me, as it gives me a chance to try before I buy.) I muse, “Gonna be sex, what about beds?”
Hot Hortence smirks, “Inflatable mattresses, here and there, with some Mexican girl maids to clean things up.”
“Sex as a spectator sport.”
Hot Hortence smirks, “You get to try some girls, I get to try some guys.”
(I can see that Hot Hortence is thinking about moving on. She figures that she can try several guys, while I get maybe one girl. As usual, Hot Hortence overlooks several key factors.)
“How much is this extravaganza gonna cost?”
“Only two hundred dollars per couple, including drinks.”
“What's the etiquette?”
“Man and woman talk. Maybe a little touchy-feely. If she gets aroused, they go to an inflatable.”
“I wind up with another girl, you wind up with another guy. Then what?”
Hot Hortence smirks, “You take her back here. I go back to his place, with him.”
(Hot Hortence is obviously on the move. She doesn't want to come back home, where all of her stuff is, she wants to check out the guy's living quarters, as a preliminary to moving in.)
I ask, “Where do we get the masks?”
Hot Hortence says, “There's now a little shop in the lobby of each of the tech businesses.”
“Are you sure that you want to get into this?”
Hot Hortence smirks, “This place is so boring. We need to liven things up a little.”
“I'm willing to try.”
