She passed a vague hand over her eyes, thinking she must be seeing things, imagining things. Yet, the dancer did look kind of boyish and she was down off the stage and dragging a chair up by Nichole and whispering to her. Kim felt shaken for two reasons: imagining such a thing about a friend; and also realizing that the wildly vulgar dance she had just seen and the non-verbal exchange she had witnessed had wantonly excited her beyond anything she had ever imagined. Her sopping young cunt fairly ached, forcing her to twist and turn under Klaus' hand in an effort to find a better way to sit. She moved uncomfortably, feeling as though her entire vagina was on fire. She felt immersed in a whole world of lewdness. Sex was everywhere in the bar. Men were looking hungrily at her as they waited for another dancer. Men were looking with the hot perfume of sex in the air! IT WAS EXCITING!
While the drugged young housewife sat in a kind of sexual reverie, "feeling the world around her" and feeling her immediate world of the sleazy dark bar, another dancer walked up on the platform and began taking off her dress to reveal her buttocks bare and bulging. While all these things were happening all around her, Kim could feel her flesh and found it excited. Men were mentally undressing her and Nichole. Suddenly Kim sat forward, noticing her three companions weren't looking at the stage. They weren't paying any attention to the new dancer, but, rather, had their heads bent together and were talking excitedly in low voices.
Kim leaned closer to hear what they were saying.
"Why not?"
"One in a million chance."
"I wouldn't miss it for anything."
"What?" Kim asked, interrupting, eager, squirming to know what it was that was so interesting. The three of them looked at her, and Ernie had his cynical smile. "No," he said, looking at Klaus and shaking his head, "I don't think we can do it."
"Vhy?" Klaus asked.
Ernie nodded at Kim, and they all looked at her.
She could tell she was still suffering from the effects of the cigarette. Everyone seemed far away, like looking at people through the wrong end of a telescope. Yet she could hear what they were saying.
"What? What about me?" Kim asked, her voice sounding strange and far away.
Klaus patted her knee in a paternal way. "Nothing. This girl here, this dancer, talked to Nichole, and it seems she knows where a live sex show is going to be."
"Live? Real?" Kim gaped at the girl in disbelief.
Klaus nodded. "An orgy. For a price, they allow people to watch."
The thought staggered Kim. She had never in her life dreamed of such a thing. Yet, San Francisco seemed full of everything else sexual. She had even read articles about the so-called massage parlors. Why not orgies with an audience?
"Since they are against the law, they are very hard to get to see," Klaus went on, explaining. "Since nothing is held back at these orgies, I'm afraid they will always be outside the law. I can't conceive of a government that would ever permit such things publicly."
"Why? What happens at these… things?" Kim couldn't resist the question. The thought of watching people do what they would ordinarily do in privacy, in bed, in a whorehouse, was too thrilling to resist. She shifted again on the chair, feeling the tight crotchband of her panties bite into the wetly swollen lips of her cunt. She crossed her legs tight, feeling the band bite deeper, feeling her excited clitoris grow oiled with her own heat and slip out of the band. By rocking back and forth, pretending to listen to Klaus explain above the music, she was able to rub her clitoris back and forth against the band, exciting her so that her face was flushed and the nipples of her breasts hardened, shrinking into tightly erect points. Klaus was telling her about one he had attended some time ago, and she was imagining herself standing nakedly in front of a group, showing them her proud body and its scratches and bruises. She clenched her fists to keep from shuddering.
"Naturally, orgies are hard to find because they are secret. They take precautions and this is a lucky break."
"How do you know this is… genuine? The real thing?" Kim asked.
Klaus smiled politely. "You saw that girl dance. And she says that the price is seventy five per person. That follows my experience and lends credence."
"S… seventy five dollars?"
Klaus nodded. "Believe me, you get your money's worth."
Nichole tapped Klaus on the knee, getting his attention. "Don't embarrass my friend. She doesn't have to go if she doesn't want to."
"Yeah," Ernie added, "now's the time to take the party-poopers home."
"Ernie!" Nichole protested. "Don't talk that way."
"Why not? Hell, we're all tip-toeing around afraid of Miss What's-Her-Name here. Hell, let her go home. I wouldn't miss this orgy for anything."
Klaus looked at Kim and shrugged. "Rude as he is, I'm afraid I agree with him. I'm going to go. I'll be happy to take you back to the apartment."
"Well, I think you both are being rotten to Kim!" Nichole said.
"Oh?" Ernie leered. "I suppose you're not going?"
Nichole looked right in his face. "I wouldn't miss it for all the money in California, and you know how much I love money, honey. Don't you worry about old Nichole. I'll be right there in the front row. And you two will be with me. No, that isn't it. What frosts me about you two is the way you assume Kim won't go. Hell, you haven't even asked her if she wanted to go!"
Again, they all looked at the embarrassed red-haired housewife who tried to look cool and poised. Nichole was the first to speak. "Do you want to go? If you don't, we understand. Well drop you at my apartment."
Kim's mouth was dry. Her fingers trembled. Her drugged young body was a mass of swirling emotions and conflicting feelings. She couldn't help thinking of Hank and remembering her near-rape. Going to an orgy would be daring and wicked and something she would never forget.
"W… would I… would… w… we… would we have to do anything but watch? I mean…" She licked her lips and tried to hide her excitement and fear.
"No, this girl says they have arrangements where one can watch in private."
"T… the money…" Kim began.
Klaus waved her problem away. "I would be delighted."
Before she realized it, the hashish playing tricks with her sense of time, they were threading their way through the tables with Kim looking back and thinking, "My God, I never even looked at the other dancer!"
Yet, as they crowded into a cab and she felt Klaus pressing his whole leg against hers, she felt a thrill and giggled. All of them seemed to have their adrenaline running high now. They were conspirators and they shared a secret: they were gong to do something illegal. More than that, they were going to do something immoral, sinful, lustful! They were going to watch an orgy!
To her surprise, Kim found that the address was on Russian Hill instead of some grimy tenement in the Haight. A doorman in regal livery politely asked them to stand in front of a television camera whip he punched the floor and apartment number Nichole gave him. Nichole smiled at the camera. A voice came through a chrome-faced speaker. "Yes?"
"Mr. Burdick?" Nichole asked as she had been instructed.
"Which Mr. Burdick?" the query came cautiously.
"The one from Sharon, New York, who smokes Chesterfields."
There was a click then a voice asked, "How many?"
"Four."
Another click and, "Let them in, Albert."
The doorman showed them into a tastefully decorated lobby that smacked of wealth. Kim seemed to stumble and float like a weightless leaf on water.
CHAPTER SIX
The apartment itself was large, a duplex, and was tastefully decorated. Modern abstract paintings hung from the walls, setting off rooms with blacks and slashes of vivid color. The furniture was modern and elegant. It reminded Kim of apartments she had seen in fashion magazines. Cool quiet jazz came from speakers that were all through the apartment, and the lights were on a rheostat that someone was manipulating, lowering the lights just as Kim and Nichole came in with their escorts.