My eyes were focused on where I was going, unlike Kay, who was giggling, smiling, and rubbing my arm as we walked in the dark toward the shining light from my living room windows. I felt liberated over what just happened and I was happy, but she reverted to a girl after her first fingerbang. She was hanging on me and very fluid with her movements, which was more from arousal than from the alcohol.
“They are going to know. I can’t stop smiling,” she said as if I didn’t notice.
“No, they are not. Just act normal.” I gently slid my right hand down my left arm to detach her hold on me.
“I can’t. I want to kiss you again,” she said after I had separated us.
“Shut up. I do, too. Keep walking.” I was smiling, of course, but I knew that we could not go back into the house smelling of each other while shooting flirtatious glances.
We arrived to the back sliding glass door and opened it to see the boys sitting on the couch, drinking beers. Our drinks sat in a pool of condensation while the husbands talked and waited for us to return. Tim asked what took us so long and looked unbelieving as we explained ourselves like guilty children. I hoped the boys didn’t see the state of arousal in my face or the way I stood uneasily.
Kay and I sat at the island, sipping our drinks and chatting away, hoping a conversation would make the pulse in our loins disappear. Tim and Doug stood in the middle of the living room, talking. Every now and then their laughter would burst through the music, halting our conversation long enough for a look before we resumed chatting.
During one pause, the husbands seemed to twitch to the music. “Are they trying to breakdance?” I asked Kay. She shrugged as we watched their horrible attempts to simulate robotic movements. They tried feverishly to mimic the jerking of eighties breakdancing favorites.
“Come on, girls,” Tim said as he jerked and posed in random awkward positions. “Come (pause and pose) breakdance (pause and pose) with us.”
“Yeah,” Doug shouted with boyish excitement as he tore off his shirt. “Bet you can’t beat this move.” He spread his hands out like Jesus on the cross. A movement began in his left hand to his elbow and left shoulder. The flow travelled through his neck over his right shoulder and seemed to shift down his entire right arm until his fingertips finished the wavelike motion where he pointed to Kay, who threw her head back with laughter and intense clapping.
Tim, never to be outdone, stripped down to his boxers, sat on the government-tiled floor, and then forced his body to spin like a top on his bony ass. The faster Tim spun, the higher Doug’s laughter got. Then he took his pants off to join Tim. Kay asked why the boys were getting naked.
“Because they are idiots,” I answered, obviously unimpressed.
“Because we are hot for you, baby,” Tim told his wife. “Come on. Dance with us,” he begged as the song changed automatically.
I looked over to Kay, who was dancing a little jig on the bar stool next to me. “Come on, Emma, don’t you want to dance with me?” she asked as she pulled at my arm. My eyebrows scrunched together, questioning if she was even remotely aroused from earlier. She seemed altogether unfazed nudging me with her eyes to hit the floor while our half-baked husbands polished tiles with their asses. I sat on my uncomfortable stool, shaking my head as I sipped my drink and “tsked” her in true Annica style.
When the laughter stopped, Kay and I looked over to the boys, who waited with bated beer breath for that particular moment. They stood completely naked with hands interlocked behind their heads until our eyes met their midpoints wherein they rocked back and forth, forcing their penises to slap the inside of their thighs. When the slaps beat in rhythm, all four of us roared in thunderous laughter. Even I had to admit, that was a good one.
These two were seriously some fucking awesome neighbors. Our backyard “picking up dog shit” conversation would be much more interesting now that I had made out with the wife in the foyer and seen the husband’s penis slap his inner thigh until it was red.
Funny as it was, in the moment of the whole situation, I was embarrassed for all of them and still turned on from my little tantalizing teases at Kay’s house. I just wanted them to stop being stupid, even though I was smiling. I could feel the night getting ugly if they didn’t.
I maintained in my fully clothed prudishness the only level of stability in all the madness. I meditated, not with tantric words, but when surrounded by idiocy, silence is golden. It had been this way since childhood, into my twenties, and beyond to present day.
With all my adventures and wild side, I sometimes really wonder how I can be so duel-natured. When faced with people doing stupid things or when I hear the mumblings of morons, disgust overwhelms me, which renders me silent. In my head I repeat the phrase “in the company of fools” over and over with a shake of my head. It’s a mystery as to where the saying came from, so I can’t give credit, but thank you, Jesus, for wise words. The phrase has saved my ass from rabbit-punching someone in the throat on several occasions. When confronted with idiots, I repeat it and simply breathe. I certainly had to repeat it in my head that night because I nearly murdered my half-naked husband, neighbor, and his wife on government housing tiles. Can you imagine what I would have told the military police? Well, I’m sorry officer but they tried to defile me like devil nymphs and I begged them to stop. I think not.
In the company of fools. In the company of fools. In the company of fools.
I guess in all the commotion of the loud music, embarrassment, and ass cheeks squeaking painfully on the floor, my silly little meditation helped me to seize the moment. I grabbed Kay’s arm and dragged her to the master bedroom. I was completely and utterly on autopilot. All other activities ceased to exist. If silence could ring in one’s ears, it would have deafened me. I heard nothing.
The wife swapping lasted all night. Everyone was too intoxicated to have an emotional response. They moved to Germany weeks later as Doug and I continued with our lives. We never talked about it, nor did we care that it actually happened.
A few months later, Doug and I were stationed in Germany. We were at least an hour and a half from where they lived and never attempted to contact them. About a year later we literally met with them by accident. We got lost, saw what appeared to be their truck in the parking lot of a military complex, guessed what door it belonged to, and knocked. By dumb luck, Kay answered the door.
We stood with Kay and Tim in the hallway after catching up as if we used to be respectable can-we-borrow-some-sugar neighbors. The whole wife-swapping ordeal was never mentioned. We even made arrangements for me to stay the night the following evening so Kay and I could catch up and do some shopping. We shopped like normal friends, minus one little indiscretion in the changing room. We came home on time, cooked dinner, and watched some television with the kids. Kay bathed her daughter and new baby girl. Once they were happily tucked into bed and asleep, we chatted online with lonely men about our friendship, which turned into chatting online with horny men who wanted to see us fuck on web camera. We thought it was funny and had more than a few laughs at their expense.
We finally became bored with their nagging requests for a show and decided to call it a late evening. Our eyes were puffy from lack of sleep and squinting, from trying to read computer text for an extended period of time. I headed straight for the bottom bunk in her eldest daughter’s room and tucked myself in. Kay retired to the bathroom for a shower. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.