Opening Friendships Ch. 01

She fluffed her hair one last time and followed him to the kitchen, where they shared a glass of wine. Aoife looked as nervous as he felt. This was the first dinner date with new friends in half a year. The rest of their nights out usually consisted of quick drinks with coworkers or spur-of-the-moment tryouts of places with unique desserts.

"Okay," she said, "ground rules. This is just a friendly dinner, in your case with a coworker. We won't bring up any of our suspicions, nor will we act weird if they bring it up first."

"Define weird."

"Like that time I tried your stepmom's lasagna." He grimaced when thinking about that. So did she. "Besides, I really doubt one of them is gonna pull us aside and say, 'Dinner was a ruse! Let's get naked!"

That was a trick Aoife herself pulled on their third date. Granted, it had been some Irish holiday most Americans don't know about, and she'd gotten sloshed with friends before he came over. He still had a scar from when she'd pounced on him and slammed him against her TV.

He made sure to grab a bottle of wine she insisted on offering, and they headed off.

*****

Aoife felt a bit queasy as she walked alongside Rick. There wasn't any reason to be so nervous. They'd had dinner and double dates plenty of times with friends. Over the years, anyway. Maybe not this year, but other years. She pinched her hip, trying to remind herself of that. Yet after the other morning with Dixon, and hearing about Eva's behavior at work, she was genuinely nervous. It was probably just harmless fun as she believed. But what if they were serious? And why was Rick so calm about this? Shut up already! She shook her head, clearing it of the gnawing thoughts. He was curious, as she was, and she liked the both of them, while Rick obviously found Eva fun to work with. And unlike her, he'd never so much as gawked at another woman since they'd been together. Save for Jess, but she was a special circumstance. One who liked to wear tight shirts and practically shove her boobs in his face.

She adjusted her skirt when they reached the door to the Murphy house. The place was huge, at least for her. She'd grown up with her army of cousins constantly sleeping over in a three-bedroom house that was built like a stone cottage. Even the house she shared with Rick was a modest ranch style home. This one had two stories, and filled the corner lot. Rick rang the bell, watching her fidget with a thinly-veiled smirk. She flipped him off for that.

And didn't pull her hand down before the door opened. Standing there, watching her silently curse at her husband, was a tall, very shapely woman with flowing black hair, olive-tan skin and a low-cut black dress. Aoife quickly swung her hand behind her back, as her eyes were pulled toward the rather impressive cleavage of their hostess.

"Welcome, welcome!" Eva greeted, hauling Aoife into a very tight hug, then did the same for Rick. The woman didn't linger in the embrace, Aoife noted. Her perfectly-sculpted smile reached a pair of large, deep green eyes that sparkled. "Come on in. Dinner's almost ready."

They followed Eva into the house, both of their gazes dropping down to watch her hips waggle. It wasn't as if they were ogling the woman. It was just because her dress was so tight it left nothing to imagine, so it was quite distracting. Dixon was setting the table, dressed all in black with his hair slicked back. The outfit went well with his new tan, making him look more like some roguish Spaniard than a Brit. His green eyes wandered over her a bit longer than proper, until she took a step closer to Rick to make her stance clear. Flirting was one thing, but she was still a wife. He smiled a bit wider, gave a brief nod, and went to shake Rick's hand like they were old friends.

The man of the house served their meals - baked spaghetti and two kinds of garlic bread, along with a bottle of white wine to go along with their red. The table was a small square, with barely enough room for two people on each side. Aoife kicked her husband's ankle when he sat too close, so he got her back, both trying really hard not to let the others notice. It was a bad habit of theirs whenever they sat right next to each other, one that often left them bruised and limping after a long meal. Their giggles often annoyed whoever they were dining with, too.

Eva clapped her hands together, signaling the start of their dinner. "Now that we're all finally in one room, it's about time we got to know each other. Although, I think I've got a good idea about Rick here, and you, my dear, already know my shameless husband quite well."

"Not quite. The bugger doesn't even know how to pronounce my name."

"Wait, I don't?"

Eva shook her head. "I left a note for him once about you, but maybe he didn't get I had said it before. Is he still saying, owie, or something?" She nodded, and so did he, albeit in embarrassment. "Honey, you never corrected him?"

"I'm so used to it by Americans, I thought somebody from the English side would know. So, Dixon, you say my name just like your wife's, but with an F."

"Don't feel bad," said Rick. "When I saw her name in writing at first, I thought maybe it was her middle name."

As Dixon kept his head down in shame, Aoife took the opportunity to learn more about her husband's reputation at work. She hadn't spoken to most of his coworkers other than one of his bosses in nearly a year, not since a lead on a project had groped her during a barbeque. The jerk had ended up spitting out two teeth into the spinach dip for that, which led to her being uninvited to the rest of his company functions. Eva had already heard, and praised Aoife for having such a mean right hook.

"My family plays a bit rough," she admitted. "Some American boys tried bragging about their past glories in street combat when I first arrived, then looked positively sick when I told them how the girls in my village played."

"No damsels where you're from?"

"Oh, there were a few. But I was a bad influence."

"In more ways than one," Rick said as he took a long swig of wine. She glared at him and kicked his shin. That earned a rather mischievous grin from their hosts.

"So," Aoife started, "tell us how you two met. Were you already living here?"

"Sort of," said Dixon. "I was still getting my citizenship while working in Virginia. I'm an architect, and I was designing a small hotel outside of D.C. Then this goddess walks by..." Eva hid her face for a moment from embarrassment. "...and immediately gets catcalled from some of the workers. I mean, she had just left the gym, and wearing yoga pants and a sports bra, so I couldn't blame the boys, but I had to make them be respectful. But before I could, she just goes off."

"I kind of rattled off so many obscenities that a cop stopped by," she admitted.

"Yeah. So here I was, falling in love with a woman that nearly drove a bunch of construction workers to tears, and saw that a cop was trying to take her away. Like a knight in shining armor, I introduced myself, diffused the situation, and convinced her to go on a date."

Eva rolled her eyes and corrected him. "He began apologizing so much that he was stumbling over his words, sounded drunk, and begged the cop to leave all of us be. Then the other guys started mocking him, so I asked him out just to piss them off."

"Wow," they said together. Rick then continued, "A bit more dramatic than my story, but a good one."

When they asked, Aoife told them the tale of a game developer convention in London, how she was interviewing a bunch of creators, and dealing with a bad migraine from the weather and annoying crowds. Then one of her interviewees got confused by her questions - somehow she knew more about the game than the guys who were making it - so he asked one of his employees over to elaborate. Rick came by, nervous as a kid in a new school. She found his innocence charming, struck up a conversation with him afterward, and asked him to tea.

"I was about to blow it," he added. "Then the waitress tripped and dumped hot Earl Grey onto my lap. She was laughing so hard that she fell out of the chair, and I just gave up worrying."

"Aww, that's so sweet," said Eva.

Aoife agreed, although she did keep it a secret that he had had a crush on her for a year from watching her Youtube videos, hence the nervousness. That was a little detail she liked to save for herself.

The dinner finished, but their repertoire was nowhere near winding down. With another bottle of wine opened, they headed to the living room. Their hosts proved to be as open and flirtatious together as they were apart, having no shame in discussing their sex life - enviable even by Aoife and Rick's standards - and their romances before each other. And after. After the fourth wine bottle was popped, Eva admitted that she'd invited her head bridesmaid to the honeymoon on some Bahaman island. The woman had shown up two days later, and spent the next three nights in their bed. Apparently, it had been Dixon's idea, albeit meant for after the honeymoon, and Eva decided to set it up before he was even sure he wanted it.

Aoife found herself paying close attention to the details. She had never been in a threesome, despite what people typically assumed when they found out she was bisexual. She may be attracted to a wider range of people than most, but she also preferred focusing on just one at a time, especially under the covers.

"So now your turn," Dixon said. He had been across the room, adjusting a stereo that played through the TV's surround sound. It was so clear, she pictured herself in a small intimate music club, or one of the less-traveled pubs back home.

She was so in tune with the music that she missed the point of the question at first. "Wait, what?"

"Spill. Any wild nights before or after you guys got together."

Panic fluttered in her stomach. She locked eyes with Rick. His own apprehension was barely stamped down. Their hosts were waiting, and were due a good story. "Fine. I, er, this was while we were dating, a week before he proposed."

"Two weeks after, actually."

"Oh, shite, really? Sorry. I was still living with my roommate, a good friend from high school. She had done a study abroad thing, then stayed for a spell longer."

"What was his name?" asked Eva. She was leaning forward, exposing a bit more of her chest. Rick, for his part, tried valiantly not to steal too many glances. He was failing, but it was still a worthwhile attempt.

"He?"

"You're not starting with the roommate unless he's the star."

"Mary. She was a lovely lass from California, with a southern drawl and baby face. We were good friends, but just before I moved out to be with Rick, she admitted she was... curious. About me. So I talked to Rick about it, then her, then him, back and forth, until I realized she wanted to... well, hook up."

"And what did you say?" Dixon asked her husband.

"Honestly, I've never been sure how to consider a woman having an affair with another woman. And because we talked about it so much, I decided to let her off for a night."

"Without knowing how you felt?"

"I promised her, and myself, I wasn't going to pass judgment even if I regretted the decision."

"And did you?" Eva directed this question to both of them.

Aoife smiled brightly, hiding the fact that she had struggled with it for years afterward. On the one hand, he had assured her time and again that he was fine with it, and she enjoyed every damn minute of that night with Mary. On the other, she often worried her excitement was a sign of uncertainty about them, and Rick was just putting on a really good show.

Nearly six years afterward, she finally proved to herself that it had been the right decision.

"I just didn't want her to feel stifled, you know?" Rick added. "Our relationship took off a lot faster than either of us were ready for, and here she was, uprooting her entire life to come live with me on another continent. It was good for both of us. She got to have one last hurrah with a good friend, and I got a wife without any lingering regrets about what-ifs."

After a moment of silence, Eva asked, "There's more, isn't there?"

"Not tonight," said Aoife. "Where's the fun in getting to know each other through an interview?"

"That would make the second date boring," Eva agreed. She leaned back, crossing her legs slowly so both of her guests could enjoy it. Her eyes half-closed, taking on a sultrier look as she studied them. Her husband took her hand. "Perhaps we could learn another story with you two, or make one ourselves. Are you busy Sunday?"

"It's our anniversary," said Rick.

"Even better. I'm sure you have plans for the day, but what about that night?"

"We have dinner reservations at Club Breeze, at six."

"Why?" asked Aoife. "What do you have in mind?"

"I think you know." She glanced between them as her husband laughed. Aoife had an idea, but waited for the hostess to spill it. "Come on, I heard all about the way you two tear each others clothes off with your eyes from Missus Samson. You've been over to her house whenever Dixon was working for the last three days."

Aoife blushed fiercely, peeking at Rick to see if he was upset. He merely arched an eyebrow at her.

"And Ricky, I know you went into the restroom to alleviate the pressure I caused yesterday."

"I, what... you needed my help on getting that animation suite to work."

"Please, I had it going a week ago. I just deleted a code to use it as a really poor excuse to get you over to my desk. And you knew it and played along."

Now it was her turn to study him. "So you let another woman pull my trick from the kitchen?"

"I was just trying to impress someone with more talent. I swear!"

"And cranking one off in the toilet?"

"Shit, does everyone know?"

"I doubt it," said Eva. "So, to put it plainly, we enjoy extra company now and then. We prefer to get to know any prospective partners, and both of you are too easy to read. So, since we know you two are attracted to us, are you interested?"

They stared at the two. It was not a joke. They had just been offered a night with a pair of swingers. The idea wasn't so absurd, not for her, at least. That may have been due to the alcohol.

Thankfully, Rick spoke up first. "That... is a very interesting offer. Um, I can't say yes right now."

"All we need is a hard no," said Dixon, "and we'll back off. No awkwardness, no more bringing it up if you don't want. But I like you two. So does Eva. And I'd love to do this again sometime, even if dinner is the only thing on the table."

Now Aoife thought of Dixon picking her up and putting her onto the table, then climbing atop of her. She shook the fantasy away, for the moment. Then she said, "We'll talk about it."

"Great!" Eva stood, and they followed suit. "That's all we wanted to hear. So the offer is open, and if you two want to discuss it some more, or, if you do want to come over Sunday, just give us a call."

"Will do," said Rick. "And thank you so much for the meal. You have to give me the recipe."

"Maybe," said Dixon. "I'll make you work for it, though."

The guys shook hands, the women gave hugs, and they left with a slightly unsteady step. Aoife leaned against her husband as they took their time walking home. It was a nice night, with a cold front moving in. There was a very good chance of rain during the weekend, and part of their anniversary celebration included visiting a local arts festival in the park. She hoped they weren't going to be rained out.

She tried and failed to focus on that. Instead, her thoughts kept circling back to Eva and Dixon, their offer, and how much she actually wanted to do it. Both of them were gorgeous, and Rick was obviously interested in Eva. No, she told herself, it's the wine doing this. Wine really did heighten her libido, which had gotten her into trouble more than once.

A certain vacation in New Smyrna, Florida was a prime example.

"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" asked Rick.

"Perhaps."

"And is Dixon the star, or Eva?"

"I'm multitasking." She giggled as she felt his chuckles while pressing her head against his chest. "We'll talk about it when we're sober."

"Is it so weird, though? That we're considering it?"

She looked up, grimacing at his question. "Really? Need I remind you that you let me fuck your dad three times?"

"Wasn't it four?"

"That first one didn't count, arsehole."

He shook his head and hugged her. That last one really had been his idea. That week had been one confusing - and satisfying - vacation. But they had never discussed doing anything like that again before or since. Now the offer was on the table. They just had to decide if one of them was going to climb on with it.

*****

It wasn't just raining on Saturday. Aoife watched out the window, looking for Noah's Ark to float by. After a while of watching trashcans, porch decorations, and a tricycle be carried along in the currents, she tapped her head against the window.

Rick had dared to go out, having wanted to surprise her with a few particular gifts during their walk in the park. So come hell or high water, he was going to at least do that much. She'd made him stay on the phone during his drive to the store, and he promised to call when he was heading back. Ireland was no stranger to squalls, but Florida had been an entirely different beast. Now that she was in Georgia, the storms weren't as wicked so often. At least now she was used to them. They still pissed her off, but she was used to it.

A hammering came from the door. For a moment, she thought the wind had carried a chair into it, then she heard Eva's voice. She quickly let her friend inside. Just the spray carried by a strong gust was enough to chill her. And Eva had on only a light jacket.

"Are you trying to catch the death of ya?" she asked, immediately pulling off the taller woman's sopping pathetic form of protection.

Eva stood there, hair lank and dripping, shivering madly as she rubbed her arms and tried to laugh it off. Aoife wasn't having it and pulled her further inside. They didn't have a fireplace, per se, rather a heater with a fake video of a roaring fire.

"I'm soaking the carpet," Eva said through clattering teeth.

"Like I give a shite. Take those clothes off and I'll grab a towel."

She tried pulling up on Eva's shirt, which currently looked like body paint, given how it was plastered to her. She fought back, warning her host that she wasn't wearing a bra. That much was obvious.

"A little late for prudishness, girl. Strip."

Grumbling half-heartedly, Eva obeyed, freeing her perfectly-shaped breasts. It was all she could do to keep from squeezing them. Perhaps she was staring too long, for her guest cleared her throat.

"Are those real?"

"My god, do you blurt out anything without pausing to think first?"

"I'm Irish, so yes."

Eva rolled her eyes, grabbed Aoife's hand, and pressed it against her breast. Aoife went ahead and squeezed the chilled skin, warming it. They definitely were not real, but judging from the feel as she let her fingers wander, she guessed the enhancement was more for shape than size. She had often considered doing the same, though it would be about the size for her. Rick was neither for nor against it, yet he'd make it clear that he appreciated her chest the way it was. Sometimes, she'd ask his opinion just to make him appreciate her some more.

"Enjoying yourself?" asked Eva.

"Immensely. Sorry." She pulled back, took Eva's clothes after she removed her pants, and got a towel after tossing them in the dryer. When Aoife returned, she lingered in the hall to study her guest. Long, muscular legs, not a hair down there, and stomach showing a bit of muscle. Light bronze skin that was soft as velvet. Full lips.