DRABBLE: An Indecent Invitation


Kathryn Alison, Ian Mathers, Ken & Lana Andrews

Kathryn gritted her teeth and looked the other way, her glass of champagne dangling over the arm of the leather chair. “No, they’re your friends.”

It was the same petty argument she and boyfriend Ian had every time they tried to have a nice evening out on the town and crossed paths with Lana and Ken Andrews. What did we expect when we came to The Dark Hour, though? The club was the home away from home for the married couple who got off on exhibition and voyeurism. The more people they could include in their kink, the better!

All well and good, except for the fact that the Andrews were under the impression that Kathryn and Ian were their friends.

“Your friends.” Ian turned his body away from the approaching form of Ken Andrews. The man didn’t have the greatest height on him, but his confident gait owned every room he sauntered through. That included the rear VIP lounge where Kathryn and Ian had come for some peace and quiet in a club full of raucous partying and enough drunk people to start a new round of legal prohibition. “They are most certainly your friends. They bother you way more than they bother me.”

“Amazing, because you’re the one they have a crush on.”

The champagne filtered through Kathryn’s lips until the bottom of her glass was high up in the air and her throat worked to make it all go down. The goal was to swallow all of her drink before Ken finished his beeline for them.

“Kathryn, Ian,” he said with a charming grin. Neither of them made eye contact with him. “Having a good evening?”

Kathryn reflected on her finishing school training and remembered to sweetly, professionally smile at the older man starting a conversation with her. Ian, on the other hand, went straight for the jolly shake that suggested he would rather eat his fist than talk to Ken.

“You know how it is around here,” Ian said, arm firmly around Kathryn. What, did he think this was the time to show off what a great alpha boyfriend he was? Kathryn readjusted the glittering black mask on her face. The theme of the party was Feminine Mystique. Every woman wore masks and more conservative dresses than they usually would. So happened Kathryn had a gorgeous long-sleeved dress she acquired on her most recent trip to Paris. (No, not the one with Ian. The one she took by herself a month ago because she just needed to get away for the weekend, no men allowed.) “One moment you’re having a pleasant conversation, and the next you’ve seen five blowjobs, one of which was for someone you didn’t even realize had a penis.”

“Yes, it’s always a great assembly.”

Kathryn cut to the chase. I want to get this over with, thanks. She had plans to enact with her boyfriend. The sooner they could be alone again, the sooner they could decompress and head back to her apartment for the real fun and games. “What can we do for you this evening, Mr. Andrews?” She kept her voice curt enough to broadcast her ladylike irritation.

A small business card landed on the table. “I know it’s a longshot,” Ken began, “but I’m throwing a party for Lana’s birthday. No offense taken if neither of you want to come.” His wink as he walked away again told Kathryn she didn’t want to look at the card.

Because when it came to Kenneth Andrews and his wife Lana, nobody’s birthday party would be anything but inappropriate for half the populace.

“Oh, boy.” Ian picked up the card and held it out of Kathryn’s reach while he read it. “Well… you’ll never guess what this is for.”

Kathryn sighed. “I’ve got a pretty wild guess. Does it include their swinging lifestyle?”


“Does it include Lana having the best birthday a woman like her could ask for?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Kathryn wasn’t a math whiz, but she could still put two and two together. “Key party?”

“Come on, Katie, that’s something they do for their anniversary, not Lana’s birthday.”

“Give it to me.”

The card fluttered into her lap. Kathryn snatched it up and instantly wished she could bleach the announcement out of her brain.

Because who didn’t want to be invited to a gangbang carefully curated by one woman’s husband?

“I think I should be flattered,” Ian said. “I should be flattered, right?”

Kathryn wadded up the card and shoved it into her purse. She may have been put out, but she wasn’t about to leave something as private as this laying around for strangers to pick up. I have class. Lana and Ken didn’t need some random perv crashing their sexy party. Nope. They only needed the carefully curated additions to show up. Don’t want details. Hell no. After Lana’s birthday, there would be men (and probably some women) Kathryn knew who had done things with Lana she would never, ever want to know about. Guaranteed that Kathryn would now search the faces of all the other men in the club, wondering which ones would show up for Lana Andrews’s weird birthday party.

“It’s not flattery if we already know they’d love to swing with us one day. Specifically with you.” Kathryn summoned a server to bring them another round of drinks. She needed it now. “Both of them.”

“So… I’m flattered.”

“Whatever makes you feel like a big strong man.”

The party grew over the next hour. Eventually, Kathryn and Ian ventured out of their tiny VIP area and joined a slightly larger one full of locals and out-of-towners they both knew and had only met once or twice. It was the delightful kind of socializing that carried with it the usual sexual expressiveness and freedom that still did not put the onus to participate on anyone who didn’t want to. Because while Kathryn and Ian were no strangers to flaunting their sex lives in front of others, that didn’t mean she was always in the mood. Neither was Ian, for that matter – although he would never openly say it. Good thing Kathryn had learned to read his tone and body language so well that even she could confidently say that her boyfriend was not going to push the public boundaries that night.

The Andrews were there, of course, mingling as if nobody had been invited to anything and the entire evening was social business as usual. Lana was aghast that a certain Italian woman had never been to the new five-star restaurant opened on the far side of downtown. (She only cared because it was in a building she and her husband owned.) Ken talked literary pursuits with a Brazilian real estate developer and his male partner of twenty years.
The two were never far apart.

“Can you imagine us turning into them one day?” Ian murmured in his girlfriend’s ear.
Kathryn’s eyes glazed over. Through the milky haze of the room, she admired the way Ken always kept one loving hand on his wife, whether he stroked her thigh or wrapped his fingers firmly around her shoulder. Likewise, Lana always leaned back against him, smacked his leg with laughter even when they were not a part of the same conversation, and naturally referenced their marriage in half of her dialogue.

People joked that they would always be “The Andrews” because they were such a fluid unit that could read each other’s minds and desires. People made fun of their sexual lifestyle while also admiring their keen business sense in the real estate world. Kathryn couldn’t fault either approach.
“Don’t know what would be so bad about that.”

Ian stopped laughing. “You think so?”

“Babe…” Kathryn leaned against her boyfriend, hand on his shoulder and hand softly landing in his lap. “If we’ve been together that long and you still look at me the way he looks at his wife, then life will be more than good.”

Because that was pure, undying love on Ken Andrews’s face every time he was caught gazing upon his wife.


When Kathryn was alone in her office later that night, with her boyfriend asleep in her bed in the other room, she emptied her purse and found the crumpled up invitation.

She unfolded it and stared at it beneath the lamp light. Her cat, perched on the corner of her desk, waited to see what she would do with it.

She didn’t put it through her shredder and into the trash as she had originally planned. Instead, she placed it in the bottom of her locked drawer, in a little stash she called, Relationship Goals. Because a man who was on the same exact level as his wife and always willing to try new things and do whatever made her happy on her birthday was exactly the kind of husband she eventually wanted.

“Good night.” Kathryn patted her cat on the head and turned off the desk lamp. The cat tried to follow her into the bedroom, but she closed the door in its face. She wanted to be alone with the man she was trying to forge that aforementioned bond with.




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