We all stumbled out of the cab and began walking up the drive way while my friend Megan paid the driver. It was my 22nd birthday, and we managed to drink at every bar downtown. One by one we plopped down on the couches and chairs, starting with Ali. Ali was my best friend who I was always jealous of.
My wife Kelley and I have been married for 14 years and our sex life has been good, but not as great as it has been this past week. Last Saturday Kelley and her best friend Lori were scrap-booking in our dinning room, and I was watching the kids. After I had bathed and put the kids to bed, I joined Kelley and Lori in the living room while they were taking a break. They had been working for a couple of hours, and I think that they were starting to feel the effects of the beer and wine coolers that they had been drinking. Kelley suggested that we all get into the hot tub and relax together, and as I left to get dressed I heard her telling Lori that she had a T-shirt that she could wear.
The summer night air was thick, hot and filled with anticipation. Everyone at the party was holding ice-cold beers, frozen drinks and cocktails with plenty of ice to mentally escape the heat. At least that is what everyone was attributing their thirst; it was really easing their inhibitions and lubricating their libido. These kind of parties always had an awkwardness to them, but as time wore on and the liquid confidence set in, everyone seemed to warm up to each other.
Andrew Wittier was thirty, single and struggling to make it as a writer. His commissions so far had been writing technical material but he was anxious to make it into the world of fiction. After her excellent presentation, he was lucky enough to bump into her in the elevator going up to his room.