50 Shades of Beige - A Searing Expose of Swinging Suburbia - Chapter 6

_{A Searing Expose of the Secret Sex Lives of the Over Fifties,}

_{in Swinging Suburbia.}

_{Part Six: Look Who's Coming To Dinner}

_{Lucinda, had finished laying everything, as she spread Angela's tasty morsels across the living room table, for their guest's pleasure. She sensed that all eyes were on her - which wasn't an unusual occurrence for Lucinda - and the atmosphere was starting to build to breaking point. So, she decided to take charge and bring some much needed relief to the evenings affair, before things got out of hand – too soon, that is. “ Right ! Now what about some fun & games to get the old ball rolling ? Who's up for a rousing game of Postman's Spank ?” There was a lot of moving bodies – still vertical at this point - in the room, but no volunteers to her suggestions. “ Well, what about a little game of Strip Charades, then ?” Lucinda, plowed though her imagination, for more fertile options.}

_{" How about, Naked Twister ?” male, no 43, threw his suggestion into the ring, as he began to remove his shirt in anticipation. “ Let's start with something a little less ...physically demanding, “ Lucinda responded, partially concerned that some of the less able bodied members of the group might not be able to disengage themselves.
“ DIRTY TOM CAT !” George erupted. 
“ I don't think I know that one. How does it go ?” Lucinda enquired. “ It's NOT a game ! I mean look at THAT, bloody, dirty Tom Cat, “ George vented his annoyance, pointing outside, through the patio doors, towards a large ginger fur-ball , half submerged in the undergrowth. “ It's, spraying all over my lovely begonia's, again ! I'll wring it's bleedin' little neck, if I catch it !” George, expressed his outrage.}

_{“ Ahhh ! Now I know how to bring out your 'wild side,' Tiger, Grrrr !” Lucinda, laughed.}

_{"Just stay clear of me roses, you hear me !” warned George.}

_{"Why, George, what's ever the matter, haven't you heard, that a cat in the hand is worth a bird in the 
bushes !”}

_{"Why don't we play musical laps ?” piped up Mrs. No 53, suddenly.}

_{George & Lucinda, turned around together, to face her. 
“ What ?” they both exclaimed.}

_{Mrs 53, stood there - in a an outfit she had created herself, it was a mix of Barbie meets the Marquis de Sade. A bright pink, short skirt, with a black leather and lace top – in the middle of the room, holding the top of one of one of the dinner table chairs, slowly rocking it, back and forth, on two of it's back legs. “ Musical Laps ! You know, it's like Musical Chairs, but when the music stops, the girls have to find a seat, occupied by a naked man, and throw themselves down on him.” she explained.}

_{" Girls ?” muttered George under his breath, “ the average age of them must be 51, at least,” he continued his private intercourse, as he tried to stifle his amusement, at such a controversial statement. Then, he crushed her dreams further, “ We only have four table chairs, they'll be a flippin' free for all !”}

_{" Well, we'll just have to rotate the women, from game to game, probably based on a first come, first served basis,” suggested Lucinda.}

_{" Great, I'll help set things up. Where's your music box ?” enquired No. 53.}

_{" Do you mean the i-pod ?” replied George.}

_{" Yes, that's what I meant, I can never remember the silly things name “}

_{" Then, I don't have one “}

_{" Oh ! “}

_{" But, I have stereo player, over there in the corner”}

_{" O.k. I'll be in charge of the music. A kind of puppet-master of excitement. I'm really good at building up the drama, in these kind of events,” No 53 modestly volunteered.}

_{She regarded herself, as something of an entertainer, singer, and aspiring actress, due to her background in public speaking, street performances and amateur dramatics. But, in all honestly,}

_{the extent of her exposure on the streets, was just as a repository for the collection money, from sympathetic on-lookers to her partners act. He was a part time, singer & guitarist -who saw himself as a cross between Chris Rea and Bob Dylan. In reality though, he was more like a cross between a Dire Straight and The Grateful Dead. No, 53, was a community worker, but had several careers in her lifetime, from knitwear model, 1970's all-girl group dancer, and telephone sex worker. The latter of which, was just a means to an end, a way to cover her arrears. She could conduct her business affairs, from the comfort of her own home. With one hand she could be sorting out her, not-as-smalls-as-they used-to-be, from the laundry basket, whilst simultaneously helping a caller out, with his sexual predilection towards Lollypop Ladies – or Traffic Management Supervisors, as they're now known as. She had freely confessed, to not really concentrating on the job to hand, and most of the time she wasn't sure if she was coming or going.}

_{" Well, Sweetie, all is set, the food looks amazing, the music is playing, and the guests are turned on...or is that vice versa. All that's left now, is for our hosts to make their grand entrance. So, you had better find that lovely woman of yours, and get her down here. Because it's time to kick this party into touch and go !” warmed Lucinda.}

_{" Looks more like scratch 'n' sniff, to me. Are you sure we haven't forgotten something ?” queried George, apprehensively.}

_{" Like what ?”}

_{" Oh, I don't know..decency, respectability....taste !”}

<sub>" Now, George, don't go turning into a prude, yet, we still have along way to go before it strikes mid-night. Just go forth and bring me the Belle of the Ball, and then we'll see some real magic, happen tonight !” Lucinda was not a woman to be taken lightly, and George was not a man to stand in her way.

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