"Every man who still has his shirt on is a wuss!" Adam Forwarder bellowed.

     That was enough for Ward and Chuck to take off their shirts. They'd been meaning to, anyway. Chuck's attitude was, what the hell? As far as he was concerned at that point, everything could come off. He had a hard on, and it wasn't going to go away until he made it go away.

     Ward, generally, would never let anyone outside of his immediate family see his naked torso. He'd always been self-conscious about his body, anyway, had never done much to keep it in shape or anything like that. and now, at sixty-six, he couldn't imagine why anybody would choose to look twice at his pale, sagging flesh.

     But not that day.

     Out of his pajamas, Winston'd found a change of clothing in a closet in the private room he shared with Alison. He now wore slacks and a sensible button-up shirt.

     "Would you like to help me, Alison?" he asked.

     "I'd love to."

     Winston unbuttoned his sleeves while Alison undid the other buttons on his shirt.

     Gramps remained fully clothed.

     It became the Azurian women's turn next.

     As one, they removed their tops, revealing breasts that all looked exactly alike, firm and the size of peaches, nipples hard. 

     They seemed to take no notice of the fact that what they'd just done might be considered immodest. 

     The guests, those who weren't Azurian, continued to dance, but they danced kind of stunned.

      The party had just shifted to another level, and not everyone felt comfortable with that.

     "I'm not going to be the first one, I'll tell you that," Cathy said.

     "Which means you plan to, eventually," Chuck said.

     "I'm not going to until everyone else does," Abby said.

     "Which means you're going to, too," Ward said.

     "Don't be so sure about that."

     "We're all going to be dancing naked before all of this is over," Alison said, sipping broove.

CONTINUE