The house is in an eclectic neighborhood. Some apartments, some nondescript single-family homes. Not exactly the sort of neighborhood where people check up on —or even care all that much about—those who live around them.

B4 answered the door in a midnight blue button-down shirt and light-colored slacks. My sense is that he’s in his mid-50s. I’ve never been good though, at assessing someone’s age.

We immediately received a tour of the house. I counted at least three bedrooms; there may have been more. I wasn’t paying all that much attention. My eyes were fixated on the gigantic family room. Even with two sets of king-size mattresses in it, there was plenty of room for an entire set of large leather furniture, with room to spare.

Beer in hand, Tank and I joined B4 at the kitchen table. Having never been interviewed for a gang bang, I wasn’t sure what to expect.  What I did know is that I didn’t fit the “mold” of the typical women that B4 sought out for these situations. I wasn’t a college girl—not even close to being in my 20s. And I definitely don’t weigh 120 pounds nor do I come close to being 5 foot 6 inches or taller in height—unless I have on my fuck me shoes.

“What’s the most men you’ve been with at once?”

“I did five last Saturday evening for a couple hours.”

“How many men would you like? I was thinking eight.”

“That sounds good to me. I like that it’s the symbol of infinity.”

“But that means I’ll need to invite at least 12. And 10 may show up.”

“I don’t see that as a problem. As long as Tank is included.”

“Yep. He’s in the count. Are you open to anal?

“As long as someone doesn’t try to stick a 10-inch cock up my ass. And they use lube.”

“We have lots of lube here. Do you do dp?”

“I haven’t yet but I’m very open to it. And I have my own lube.”

“What type of men do you want?”

“I like younger men. Guys my age and older just don’t seem to fit as well with me.”

“What about black guys?”

“Sounds great to me! I like BBC’s.”

That’s when Tank jumped in. “Actually, she likes BC’s—big cocks—white, red, brown, black, green—it don’t matter! And if we’re talking BBC’s, the B stands for brainy—she like ‘em smart.” I laughed and gave him a kiss on the cheek. My man knows me well.

The questions went on for about 45 minutes. And I had a few of my own.

“How long does the evening last?”

“We usually start around 7. It can last as long as you’d like.”

“What type of men will be here?”

“Well, they’re all bi. Are you OK with guy-on-guy behavior? Some oral and some anal?”

“Absolutely. I’d like everybody to have a good time. How does the evening usually start out?”

“Any way you’d like. Some ladies like to start playing right away. Others like to chat and get to know the guys for 30 minutes or so. Are you available the first Tuesday in May?”

“Yes. In fact, I just had a business trip cancel for that day. Does it work for you, Tank?”

“It sure does, baby.”

“Good. Let’s plan for that night.”

By the time we’d finished up our conversation, B4 had identified several men to invite. Tank knew them all. Even though Tank isn’t bi (he calls himself a “pleaser”), I knew he’d joined in the fun on several occasions. Just not recently, which made me curious. But I knew better than to inquire.

B4 shook my hand as we left. It was all very business-like.

Tank led me to my car and gave me a kiss as he opened the door and motioned me inside. “Drive safe, baby. And call me in a few minutes so I can talk you home. I want to know what you’d like to have happen in a few weeks.”

As I drove off, I couldn’t help but wonder: “What does one wear to a gang bang? Then it dawned on me. “Holy shit. How do I prepare for an evening of being fucked by eight men?” I’d felt intermittent pain for over a week when there’d only been five. That’s how I learned through a Google search that Preparation H wipes can be used as a vaginal compress. “Would Tank be picking me up and taking me there and home? Or would I be left to do this on my own because his daughter would be at his house? What would he like his role to be? Did he want to orchestrate like the other night or would he expect me to direct traffic? And, what did I REALLY want?”

Stay tuned for more . . .