flash fiction friday #47

My former partner once said of an affair, “I don’t know how it happened.” To which I responded, “did you simply trip and fall into her pussy?” Now here I was barely in the door, furtively trying to take off our clothes off while simultaneously attempting to keep my hands and mouth in contact with my oldest and dearest friend. We weren’t drunk and less than five minutes ago I was standing on the other side of the door saying my goodnights. I honestly couldn’t tell you how it happened. Except, maybe logically, I can. 

Thursday night dinners have been a regular thing since we got married. We decided we were not going to our friendship whither. The dinners entertained us through our marriages, gave us solace during our respective divorces and allowed us to swap tales from the front lines of our jobs. During one dinner we sat with laptops on the table and created profiles for each other on the usual singles sites as we shared horror stories of dates gone wrong.

Tonight’s dinner didn’t feel different in any way. We ate, we caught up, we commiserated, we mocked and then we made plans for another dinner and drinks with friends. Then we started our goodbyes, which when you’ve been friends this long can take anywhere from five to 50 minutes.

Which as the song goes, brings us back to do-do-do. We were standing at the door, hugging like we have for the last 25 years with the usual provencial cheek kisses when it happened, a slip of the lip, but instead of pulling apart we were kissing. I could taste that combination of wine and chocolate mousse on our lips and I wanted more. We wanted more, which why we were now falling back through the door starting what’s clearly a new chapter in our friendship.