From Dinner to Bowling

You went to the washroom, and then went and paid the bill for all three of you at the front, before heading back to the table. When you got there April was sipping the last of her cider and Zara was leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed, somehow looking completely unapproachable and also making her small amount of cleavage bulge enticingly at the same time. You managed not to glance at it except when you were far enough away it wouldn’t be noticeable.

“Need more time?” you asked as you stepped up next to April’s chair.

“We’re ready to go,” Zara said, standing up abruptly and going around the other side of the table, heading for the exit.

“We’re ready to go,” April confirmed, a little exasperated, as she stood as well. She gave you a quick side hug and a reassuring look before you both followed Zara. When you got to the front, April coughed pointedly. “Zara.”

“What?” Zara asked, having already strutted towards the exit.

“We’re not dining and dashing,” April said.

“Either he’s smart enough that he already paid for us when he was out here, or he’s not smart enough to do that and he’ll pay for us now,” Zara said and turned back towards the door.

“Zara!” April said in surprise.

“She’s not wrong,” you said, hoping to keep things smooth. “I did pay for us all while I was up here.”

“But you shouldn’t have, Ollie,” April frowned. “I invited you out, and Zara is my friend.”

“And we agreed that we both get to treat and spoil each other, right?” you pointed out. “This is supposed to be a fun night meeting your best friend - I’m treating you and her.”

She sighed and shook her head, then took your hand as she accepted it. Once you were outside and found Zara waiting for you impatiently, April pointedly stopped and turned, summoning you down for a kiss. You happily followed through with that want, and she made sure you kissed for what would have been an unreasonable amount of time if you were being polite. When it was over, April looked at Zara. “Rude,” she said.

“OK, snog-fest,” Zara snorted. “Now where’s your car, Oliver? You’re driving, we’ve both been drinking.”

You led them through the parking lot to your car and went around to open the passenger door for April.

“This is your car?” Zara asked, looking clearly unimpressed.

“It’s a clean, working vehicle, Zara,” April said. “Just because you sometimes run in circles with guys who have ugly, loud sports cars doesn’t mean every guy needs to own one.”

“But it’s a Civic,” Zara said.

“You drive a Civic,” April said.

“That’s what I mean!”

“I live in the city,” you pointed out. “I don’t even need a car. The only reason I have one is so I can go visit family whenever I want, or go on trips to other nearby cities.”

“Whatever,” she said and opened the back door as you held open the front for April.

They both got in and shut the doors, but you could have sworn you heard April say, ‘What did I say about not being a cunt anymore?’

You got in, feeling self-conscious about how the car shifted with your weight, and buckled up. “Are we heading somewhere specific?” you asked.

April had the directions, and the conversation lulled a bit during the drive. The bowling alley was newer, with lots of lights outside to make it look more like a bright, entertaining place instead of the rundown dive you’d kind of come to expect from bowling alleys. It also had a ridiculous name, ‘Alley Social,’ and was also a bar. Inside place looked like it could have hosted corporate parties and had twenty lanes of bowling backed by a bar lit almost entirely by bright fluorescent multi-coloured tube lights.

A pretty hostess welcomed you, and April ordered up a lane and the three of you went through the process of getting your rental shoes before heading to your lane.

Things got… interesting, once you all sat down to put them on.

April had worn socks with her sneakers, so she just kicked off her shoes and started to put on the slightly goofy shoes that wouldn’t go with her dress at all. Zara, however, had worn strappy heels with her dress so she had to pull out a pair of socks from her little purse and start putting them on. You were bending over, taking off your own shoes, when you glanced across your communal sitting area and almost choked on your own spit.

Zara’s dress was short, but you hadn’t realised how short while walking around upright or with her sitting behind the table at dinner. Now it sat high on her thighs, and when she shifted to pull on one of her socks it spread her legs more than enough for you to have a clear look right at the little red thong she was wearing and the fact that it had shifted a little and one of her pussy lips was peaking out.

You sat up quickly, coughing and blinking the water from your eyes at the shock of both the unintentional glimpse and inhaling your own spit. April quickly sat up as well, patting your shoulder. “You OK?” she asked in concern. You managed to nod, clearing your throat heavily.

Once your throat was clear, and you’d wiped your eyes, you leaned down and dropped your voice to a whisper. “You should warn Zara she’s, uh, exposing herself.”

When you pulled back April gave you a confused look with one eyebrow raised, then looked over at her friend. Zara had paused for a moment at your coughing but had put on her other sock and was leaning down to tie her bowling shoe. Legs slightly spread. The angle should have been more risky for revealing her bust, but somehow the dress remained in place up top.

“Zara,” April said, shooting to her feet when she saw it.

“What?” Zara asked, sitting back up questioningly.

April grabbed her hands and urged her to stand up, then started pulling her towards the bathrooms - Zara wearing one shoe and April in her socks. “We’ll be right back,” April said over her shoulder.

You shook your head a little incredulously. That was definitely not what you’d been expecting to see.

“Hey, my man,” a guy said, leaning over the seating from the lane next to yours. “Just checking, is one of those chicks your sister? ‘Cause my buddies and I think they are both smokin’ hot, but we don’t want to make it awkward and flirt with a sister in front of her bro.”

On the one hand, you were a little surprised at the… politeness of the request. But it also hurt, because the guy looked like he could have been named Chad and it would have fit. He and his buddies were dressed for a night out and could have all been on some sports team together. And they thought it was more likely you were related to one of the girls instead of dating one.

“I’m actually dating the shorter one,” you said honestly. “And, to be honest, we’re pretty smitten with each other right now. Her friend is totally single though, if you want to give that a shot.”

“Dude, nice,” the guy said, offering me a handshake. “Good for you, and thanks for the heads-up.”

“No problem,” you said, shaking it.

He turned back to his group. “Guy says the redhead is single!”

“Nice,” someone else said.

You shook your head. Either Zara was going to be happy with the distraction of a bunch of guys hitting on her, or she was going to give them the same cold treatment you were receiving. Either way, you were hopefully going to get a short reprieve from her ire.

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