They had decided to celebrate Nastya's birthday at the country house. A minor hitch came up when Liza, Nastya's best friend, was almost stuck at the office for an urgent meeting with an overseas supplier, but it ended up being resolved in an unexpected way: the supplier's warehouse happened to be close to Anastasia's parents' estate, so the meeting was moved to the villa. Liza protested at first and even said she might not arrive until late in the evening, but, first, that would've forced everyone else to take one car, and second, her bosses figured it was better to meet their key partnerin an informal setting than drag him to a half-furnished office after the recent move.
"There's five minutes of work at most, just sign the papers and look over a few samples," her manager told her yesterday, then added, "You've got this."
In truth, Elizabeth had never handled a supplier meeting on her own before. There had always been either a translator or her direct supervisor at her side and both had a much better command of the language than she did. Still, in the past few meetings she had carried most of the conversation while colleagues backed her up, and deep down, she knew she could handle it. If not, Nastya was close by, working a similar role at another company, always ready to help.
There was one more issue though: picking the right outfit. The plan was a women-only party, not counting Liza's and Alina's husbands, who were expected to head out in the evening to play PS4 or poker and leave the women to it. The original dress code called for something festive, then later a change into anything comfortable for dancing. However, Liza's company insisted that foreign suppliers be greeted with the hosts dressed to the nines. After nearly an hour of back and forth, they settled on this: Liza, Nastya and their other best friend Alina would put on proper dresses for the meeting and make the right impression, then immediately change into comfy loungewear. If the meeting was really going to take only a few minutes, a bit of discomfort seemed a small price to pay.
So it was decided. They arrived at the dacha with a big group, everyone busying themselves with pre-party tasks, and a few minutes before the supplier pulled in, the women changed and came downstairs as an elegant trio. Alina wore a short black dress with bare shoulders which didn't fit perfectly but still flattered her figure. Nastya had chosen a light brown dress that ended exactly where her thigh-high nude stockings began, .framing her shapely legs perfectly. Liza stepped out in a lilac spaghetti-strap dress that highlighted her lush curves and the firm curve of her breasts so well, it was hard to look away.
"Maybe we should all dress like that," Ira giggled, the elder sister of Liza's husband. Still in her travel clothes, she suddenly felt frumpy next to the glamorous trio
"Wear whatever you plan to congratulate me in," Anastasia winked at Ira and at Sonya, Viktor's other sister, who had just come down from upstairs. "We'll go charm our foreign guests for a minute."
"Deal," Ira laughed, grabbed Sonya by the hand and tugged her off to change.
Right then, music blared from the yard and tires crunched over the gravel.
"They're here," Liza blurted. "I'm a little nervous."
"Nothing to it, we've got you," Alina said, squeezing her arm. Nastya nodded with easy confidence and gave Liza a swat on her springy backside.
"Go get them, girl."
The foreign suppliers turned out to be Black men, pulling up in a bright yellow Hummer. There were five of them, and the moment they stepped out, it was obvious the women had overdressed. The visitors—or rather, the young men, since only one looked even slightly over thirty — were dressed in tanks, T-shirts, and track pants. One look made it clear they were here to relax in the countryside, not deal with paperwork. The women hovered awkwardly on the threshold as the five of them piled out of the enormous SUV. The South Africans, as Liza had described them, looked strikingly alike, differing mostly in height. All were athletic and broad-shouldered, except for one who was noticeably heavyset.
"Hallo, Elizabeth," said the man who handled the account for Liza's company, raising a hand in greeting. His name was Lamar. Until today she had only ever seen him in a formal business suit. Now she could really take in his muscular arms, inked with abstract tattoos and bulging from under his tank top.
"Hallo, Lamar. Goed om jou te sien. Dit is my vriende Anastasia en Alina," Liza said in quick, serviceable Afrikaans. The women could feel all five men's attention snap onto them, but they did not hear the heavyset one leaning toward Lamar murmur to his friend in Afrikaans, "Kyk watter hoere" (Look at those whores).
"Ja, wat 'n teef" (Yeah, what a bitch), Lamar smirked back, though what he said to Liza was different.
"Bly om sulke skoonhede te ontmoet. Dit is my sakevennote, sowel as my vriende Jared, Simon en Tyrell. Die vet man se naam is…"
"…my naam is Prince," the heavyset man cut in, dipping his head in greeting.
"Lekker om jou te ontmoet," Liza replied. She turned to Nastya, who had understood most of what was said, and to Alina, who had not, and translated for them into Russian.
"This is Lamar, our counterpart, and these are his colleagues and friends, Jared, Simon, Tyrell and Prince."
"Prince?" Nastya smiled. "That's a name?"
"How would I know," Liza smiled back with a shrug, then invited the men into the house to sign the documents. Lamar's friends lingered by the Hummer, and Nastya unexpectedly suggested that Alina stay with them. She clearly wanted to practice a language she wasn't confident in. The idea of hanging back with a group of strangers did not thrill Alina, but Nastya took her by the hand and led her to the SUV. As soon as they got close, Alina felt all four men's eyes roving over her, and she tugged her hem down. Nastya, if anything, seemed to bask in the attention.
"Do you speak English?" she asked the nearest man, the heavy one who had called himself Prince.
"Of course. And Russian, a little," the big South African said with a wink. "Your name is Anastasia?"
Nastya laughed.
"Just Nastya, please," she said, feigning a touch of shyness.
"Of course, of course," Prince repeated. "And you are… Lina?"
"Alina," the blonde corrected him. "Is Prince your real name?"
Her English wasn't as good as her friends', even Ira and Sonya spoke it more confidently than she did, but simple phrases she could manage.
"Yeah," he said proudly. "But it's also a nickname…"
"En dit is so groot soos kondome" (and it's the size printed on a condom), someone behind Prince quipped in Afrikaans. The men burst out laughing, Prince included. Nastya either did not understand or pretended not to.
While the women spoke with Prince, the others drifted closer until the two of them were standing in the middle of a loose ring of tall, dark-skinned men. Alina felt a twinge of awkwardness, though Nastya was clearly enjoying the attention.
"Where are you from?" Nastya went on.
They took turns naming places the women did not recognize. Prince explained in English that these were cities in South Africa.
"Are you married?" one of them asked suddenly, the one named Simon, his eyes on the ring finger of Alina's right hand. She nodded, and for some reason, that stirred up a small reaction. Someone muttered "getroud slet" (married slut). Neither Alina nor Nastya knew the rough Afrikaans slang and did not know how to react. Even so, the blonde decided to ask why her answer had made such a difference.
"They are very upset," Prince said in clumsy but clear Russian. "Too beautiful."
Alina looked from the big man to Nastya, who only laughed.
"He means they are sad such a beauty is taken. Don't worry, guys, it is not a problem."
"Hey."
"What?" Anastasia blinked angelically. "That didn't stop you at the last party."
Alina's breath caught. Nastya was distorting things. The last party here the women had drunk themselves silly and spent most of the night kissing one another so hard that if the men playing poker in the next room had not been there, Liza, Nastya and Alina would likely have tumbled into a full-on threesome. But fooling around with girlfriends was not the same as cheating on a husband. That's how Alina saw it — and for Nastya to suggest she just forget her husband, and do it in front of these men, was outrageous.
"It's not true."
Her halting English forced her to search for words, and to the others it sounded so unsure that it set off more laughter and coarse whispers. Fortunately, Nastya changed the subject.
"Waar handel jy?" (What do you trade?)
An innocent-sounding question made the men chuckle in an odd, sheepish way. Prince answered.
"Dit is baie delikate dinge. Klere, speelgoed vir spesifieke situasies" (very delicate things, clothing, toys for certain situations).
Nastya's eyes went wide.
"So, you mean…"
"Seks speelgoed en goedjies. Dit is produkte vir volwassenes" (sex toys and the like, adult products), one of the men behind Prince supplied. Before Nastya could respond, one of the men climbed into the vehicle, pulled out several bags — apparently full of clothing — and handed them to the women. Alina and Nastya peered through the plastic bags. They found a few outrageously vulgar bodysuits, dresses and T-shirts with filthy English slogans, chokers and sexy stockings.
"A gift," Prince said with a flick of his hand. The women blushed but did not hand the bags back. Alina wondered whether her husband would appreciate seeing his wife in outfits like these, and for some reason she doubted it. Even if he did, she thought, he would probably last only a couple of minutes. Nastya was simply thrilled with the new additions. She had never told anyone, but upstairs she had a whole collection of erotic costumes that she'd rotate through now and then, just to spoil herself — or a partner.
"Thank you," Alina said, a little awkward.
"Probeer later weer" (Try them on later), Prince said with a wink.
"Natuurlik. Sal u bly om te sien?" Nastya smiled. "Of course. Will you stay to watch?"
The men whistled. Nastya was pushing it further than her friend.
"Ons moet nog nie soek waar ons kan oornag nie," Prince said.
"You still haven't found a place?" Nastya asked in Afrikaans.
"Nee, ek dink ek sal die nag op die parkeerterrein op die lughawe moet deurbring."
Nastya smiled, a new idea clearly sparking.
"Waarom bly u nie by die gastehuis nie? Dit is baie gemaklik daar, en dit is nader aan die lughawe as van stadshotelle."
The idea clearly appealed to them. They grinned, Prince pretended to consider it for a couple of seconds, then nodded.
"Dan saam met ons nog 'n paar geskenke. Stem jy saam?"
"Meer as," Nastya beamed.
Alina was the only one who hadn't followed the exchange. She shifted her puzzled gaze from one pleased dark face to another, then looked questioningly at her friend.
"I offered them the guesthouse. They still don't have a place to sleep, and the airport is closer from here than from the city."
Alina frowned.
"I am not sure that is a good idea."
"In return they will gift us a few more boxes of interesting things," Anastasia whispered quickly. "Spice things up with your husband. You told me yourselves there were a few issues."
She winked. Alina's mouth tightened. Nastya guessed at her thoughts.
"And if after that he still cannot satisfy you, look at how many hot guys are right here."
Prince coughed, clearly having heard every word. The men behind him looked almost indecently pleased, as if Nastya had not merely offered them beds but promised something much more personal. As if to repay the hospitality in advance, Prince gestured to his friends, who quickly unloaded several more boxes and bags filled with erotic toys and clothes. Along with the adult goods, they handed over fruit and a few drinks with African names.
"Gifts," Prince announced. Nastya's smile widened and she waved them toward the house.
"Bring it all in. We are throwing a party today, so get ready for some fun."
When the whole group filed in from the yard, they were met by Ira and Sonya dressed for the occasion. Ira wore a snow-white pencil dress that showed off long legs in matching white stockings. Sonya wore a coal-black dress with short sleeves that hid her small chest completely while drawing the eye to her legs in black stockings. The two of them, one in white and one in black, as if deliberately styled for contrast, captured the full attention of all the South Africans for a heartbeat. Even Sonya, whose face wasn't the prettiest, received her share of admiring looks.
By that time Liza and Lamar had just wrapped up their business and were walking out of the study. Seeing the cluster of men in the entryway, Liza looked from Nastya to Alina. Alina only shrugged, giggled and tipped her head toward Nastya.
"We have a few more guests," Nastya announced, radiant. The original idea of a women-only evening had not been hers. Liza and Alina had pushed for it. Anastasia had always preferred the company of men. The more of them, the better. That was why she and her last boyfriend had broken up. Or rather, they were "on a break" — which to her meant the same thing. She was not one to pine over a relationship's end, especially not with this many handsome men around.
"In what way?" Liza asked, not following. Alina and Nastya briskly filled her in.
"Maybe we should run it by the husbands," Sonya giggled.
"They went fishing and will not be back until tomorrow," Liza said before Alina could reply.
"Seriously?" Alina was surprised, but not really. Kirill did not love parties, and Viktor, Liza's husband, preferred the forest and lakes to his wife's social calendar. No wonder they'd left the women to themselves, figuring the party would be more fun without male company. They simply could not have guessed what kind of male company the women would end up with.
The South Africans, meanwhile, were already at ease, spreading through the house, talking in their native language and admiring the women's outfits. Only Lamar and Prince stayed with the group. Prince had just finished telling his boss that he had traded a bit of stock for a night in the guesthouse. Judging by Lamar's smile, he had no objection.
"Well then," Anastasia said, wearing the most shameless smile Alina and Liza had ever seen on her. "Let's start celebrating."