He responded, saying, "That nice dark green one, the shiny one". 

"Bliss!" I thought, because it's just what I was planning to wear and I've only ever worn it with masses of petticoats, so he must be expecting that as well. Anyway, it was time to get changed after spending the afternoon preparing the food etc. After a brief shower, it must have taken me about another hour to get ready (10 minutes deciding my underwear, 20 minutes putting it all on then changing my mind and re-selecting, 20 minutes wandering about the apartment in petticoats trying to fix my hair at the same time as last minute touches to the food and setting the table). 

Yes, I know what your thinking, "Your brother doesn't help much on the domestic chores." 

Well you're right. Typical man: All he did was open the wine to let it breath and watch me panic! The last ten minutes was spent doing my make-up, by which time they had already arrived. Everyone was in the lounge getting a drink as I entered the room. Now, I'm not really one for making a grand entrance, but when I came in, both the wives (who seem to know each other) were saying things like, "Wow! How wonderful you look, what a lovely dress." 

What they saw was me in my dark green taffeta dress with two bouffant petticoats hidden underneath. At this time, the guys didn't say much, but stared in that 'hungry predator-like' fashion, settling their eyes on my hemline (as guys usually do). My brother greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and introduced me to the group. Having witnessed the kiss, one of the guys took the initiative to do the same, and because one had, the other felt compelled to. 

So, what a good start. I had been kissed three times and received multiple compliments in less than 30 seconds, and all I did was walk in the room! I was feeling great, as you might expect. I was briefly looking for a seat to enjoy my drink and about to sit, when one of the guys (I'll call him "Mr. X"), offered me his seat, so I accepted and expected him to take the other spare seat which was alongside me. But no, he remained standing facing me (as if to get a better view) and when he thought I wasn't noticing, he would look me up and down. In case he decided he had seen enough, and, to keep him 'on the boil', I decided to risk crossing my legs while chatting. I should explain that I had consumed half a bottle of red wine before they arrived, so courage was not a problem by now.  Besides I envisaged spending the rest of the evening at the table with little opportunity of further teasing. I wasn't sure if he had caught a glimpse of dazzling white petticoat or not, so a few minutes later I flicked my dress-skirt over my knees. 

Now, listen carefully non-girls, because this feminine activity is difficult to describe, but a very effective method of showing froth. Flicking one's skirt over is performed by lightly pinching one's skirt near the hem in a feeble attempt to bring it further forward and ensure that it covers your knees (and slip). The motion is carried out very quickly, but in order for it to succeed, the skirt must be lifted upward (off the legs) a little as part of the initial movement. That's the normal way, but for teasing purposes, I slowed down the movement and exaggerated the uplift to make certain some of the white lace edging of my petticoats could be momentarily seen. It seemed to work, because Mr. X's rate of drinking increased dramatically thereafter! He was caught in my spider web. I had a clear sense he was to be my main tease victim for the evening (even though I was later to be proved wrong). Yes, I was plotting WICKEDNESS!

After some chatting, and witnessing Mr. X's wife giving him some murderous looks, I announced we should go to the dining room before the food spoiled. The other guy (I will call "Mr Y") who, up to this moment seemed less intrigued, suddenly sprang up and gave me his arm in a very old fashioned (but delightful) manner, to 'escort' me to dinner. I wondered if perhaps he saw some frillies too! This was getting interesting: two victims for the price of one.

We sat to dinner, which took at least two boring hours relieved only by the occasional need for me to visit the kitchen and bring out the next course. During these excursions, I tried to make best use of my attire, deliberately swinging my hips a little to make the petticoats move under the dress and create as loud a 'swish' noise as possible. Unfortunately there was no opportunity to reveal any froth on these trips to the kitchen and back but, then I had an idea. I got up from the table and asked if anyone would like to listen to some music. I knew the answer would be positive, so I searched through a pile of CDs in the display cupboard at the other end of the dining room. From where Mr. X and Mr. Y were seated at the table, they could see all of me quite clearly. I plotted to select a CD and put it in the player but, whilst doing so, pull my dress backwards away from the objects on the shelves (so as not to knock them down with the big skirt). I arranged for just the right amount of skirt re-positioning that would enable these guys to see about 5 to 10cms (2 to 4 inches) of petticoat. It was very likely they saw both petticoats (white and yellow) at least at the bottom edges. I then realised my brother had his back to me at the time, so he couldn't see what I was doing, so I decided to be more daring by letting go of the skirt (pretending I needed two hands for the CD) and then holding it back again, but this time with almost as much vigour as a can-can dancer. They couldn't fail to see petticoats this time unless they were blind! I returned to my seat thinking it was all over, no more fun to be had. 

But I was pleasantly surprised later when another opportunity arose. Mr. Y dropped his dessert spoon on the floor and, whilst apologizing, leaned under the table to retrieve it. Since he had not immediately found the spoon and, being the host (or at least his 'partner'), I bent forward on my chair and put my head under the table to genuinely try and help find it. Now, you have to imagine yourself leaning forward whilst sitting at a table and bending sufficiently to get your head under it. Unless your a top gymnast, you can't do this without separating your legs quite a lot. As my head came under the table, I caught Mr. Y looking up my dress with a spoon in his hand!! He very quickly averted his eyes and sat up again, continuing the conversation. The whole episode, from dropping the spoon to sitting back upright, took only a few seconds, but you can imagine the view he got of white and bright yellow petticoats (and possibly more underwear) under that dark green taffeta dress. I tried to avoid looking at Mr. Y, but just had to have one quick glance and, as soon as our eyes met, he looked away and his face then turned bright red. My only regret is I wasn't wearing stockings!