A respectable Saturday night party

It's Saturday night about two and a half weeks ago and myself and boyfriend number 1 have been invited to a respectable party. Dress code is "glamorous" so we decide to dress up. Both me and boyfriend number 1 find men dressed in dinner jackets irresistible, so we decide to wear ours and hope that some of the other guys will do the same.

Most of the other party guests are straight. However after about an hour I get an indication that the party might not be as respectable as I first thought when I get talking to another gay guy.

"I was chatting to the hostess last week and she'd never heard of tromboning!" he says mischievously.

"Hmmm, actually I have no idea what tromboning is either", I confess, "I've heard of fluffing though!"

"Everyone's heard of fluffing dear!!"

I can tell he's enjoying the conversation.

"Anyway", he continues in his best 'matter-of-fact' voice, "tromboning is when you rim a guy and wank him off at the same time." He does the actions, with his right hand and his tongue.

I burst out laughing. "I can see where it gets its name from!"

"Oh, and I've got another one for you. Tea-bagging, ever heard of that?"

I shake my head, I don't know that one either.

"Tea-bagging is dangling one's scrotum in and out of the other guys mouth, you know, like you dip a tea bag into hot water to make tea."

Very fascinating and amusing, although not exactly 'respectable' conversation!

Towards the end of the party, I walk up to the roof terrace to get a bit of fresh air. It's been a fabulous evening. There doesn't appear to be anyone on the terrace, but as I reach the top of the stairs I can hear some frantic activity. I turn round to see one of the young female guests looking a bit guilty, standing next to one of the waiters who's got a cheeky grin on his face. As I walk over to look at the view I notice that the waiter hasn't had time to do up the fly zip on his trousers. They're both looking at me, what on earth can I say?

"Errr, it's a lovely little refuge up here isn't it?"

They both look at me and smile politely. Oh dear, what a plonker I feel, perhaps it's best just to leave.

Although I enjoy respectable parties, I guess I enjoy unrespectable parties too because there's more to gossip about. After telling boyfriend number 1 all about it, I go and find the gay guy that I was talking to earlier.

"OK, you'll never guess what just happened."

"Come on then", he says, "spill the beans."

"I just went up to the roof terrace and that girl you know was up there shagging one of the waiters!"

Now it's his turn to burst out laughing, "Which girl I know? Hang on, are they still up there?"

"I think so", I say, nodding my head, and before I can say anything else he's half way towards the entrance to the roof terrace to see for himself. Later I get the full story from him.

"She told me he's from Bosnia. He wanted to take her up the jacksie, but when she saw the size of it she started having second thoughts!"

How did he get this information I wonder? I'd feel far too embarrassed to ask her what she'd been doing, after all it's not any of my business.

"And do you know what she said when I gave her one of my disapproving looks?" he continues. "She said, 'well its not easy for a girl of my age in London these days you know'. 'You can do better than him dear' I said."

Attending unrespectable parties wearing a dinner jacket makes me feel like a student again. Apart from the couple I caught trying to have a surreptitious shag, I've expanded my vocabulary. I've said it before but how ever many times you go round the block there's always something new to look at!