Give Aimee a call

You considered the library. Carli had suggested it, and you could probably check out her book. As you weighed your options, your vision swam slightly, just like it had the day before. You steadied yourself, waiting for it to pass. After a moment the park steadied around you, and you decided to check out the library another time. The idea of staring into some dusty book on your Sunday just didn't sound like what you needed right now. You pulled out your phone, sipping down the last of your coffee, and dialed Aimee.

It rang once before you heard her chipper greeting. "Hey Stefi, what's up?" You bristled at 'Stefi' but didn't want to make a big thing out of it.

"Hey Aimee, I kind of got into a fight this morning with Greg. I went out jogging to get some space, but now I'm kinda bored. You free to hang out?"

"Totally! What did he do? Men can be so mean! You should come over again and tell me about it. I'm just watching TV. Need the address?"

Awesome! You'd been worried she might be busy. "Carli showed me where it was, actually. See you in 15?"

Aimee's squeals of excitement were hard to handle through the phone, but still made you smile. "I can't wait!"

You started toward Aimee's home, feeling better about your decision to visit her again. It would be good to vent about your argument with Greg. A part of you was still surprised at how quickly you'd befriended Aimee, but another part enjoyed her easygoing disposition and her excitable personality. You could check out the library later.

The walk was faster than you'd expected, and then you were knocking on Aimee's door. She threw it open, enveloping you in one of her signature hugs. You smiled, hugging her back, and instantly felt justified in your visit when you saw the concern reflected in her eyes. "Thanks for coming over, Stefi! How are you holding up?" She asked, hands still resting on your shoulders. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'd rather think about something else, actually," you answered, "I could use some escapism today. What have you been up to?"

Aimee smiled back, "Oh no problem! I was just watching 'Housewives!'" She led you into the living room and you both sat on the couch as she un-muted the TV.

You'd never really watched any reality TV, but you'd heard of "Housewives." The show centered around a wealthy family living in the suburbs of New Jersey. You weren't surprised that Aimee was into it, but you weren't eager to spend much time watching it.

"How about I get us a snack?" Aimee asked, sending your appreciation. "Anything to drink?"

"Oh thanks," you answered, remembering the day before, "It's too early for wine, though." You said it with a laugh, wanting to avoid another drunken return home.

Aimee grinned back, "THAT is what mimosas are for! I'll be right back!" She went off to the kitchen, giggling to herself.

You laughed with her, rolling your eyes at the characters on screen. These shows were so simplistic. How could Aimee actually be interested in this?

After a few moments Aimee came back, setting two mimosas on the table with another plate of her cookies, with reminded you of her gift. "Thanks so much for the cookies you gave us, by the way! They're practically all I ate yesterday." You grabbed one to emphasize the compliment, savoring the flavor as you took a bite. "You'll have to share the recipe!" You added.

She laughed, grabbing one herself, "Oh, you're welcome, and it's just a diet sugar cookie recipe! Ooh look! Jessica's husband just got home!" She drew your attention back to the TV and then paused, absorbed in the scene.

The screen showed Jessica, one of the show's three main protagonists, kissing her husband (Casey?) who had just gotten home from work. He was criminally attractive, with broad shoulders and chiseled features. You snuck another cookie as their on-screen kiss broke.

The two of you watched for a good half hour as you relaxed. You weren't really following the show, but as it went on you started to catch on. You both finished your drinks around the same time, and got up together for a trip to the kitchen. You put together a salad while Aimee fixed more drinks, and you found yourself asking what was going on with the woman and her husband.

"He's been cheating on Jessica." Aimee explained, "She knows about it, but she doesn't want to lose him to the other woman."

The words resonated with you, and you wondered what you'd do in her place. "She's not going to ditch him?" You asked, taking another sip from your drink.

"Jessica's going to show him that she's the better woman for him," she said. "Last week, she bought this really hot bra and panty set." You both watched the show for a few minutes in silence.

"Isn't she mad, though?" You asked, vaguely aware that you were getting sucked into the show. When Aimee described it, it made more sense. You took another cookie, considering.

You were, surprisingly, having a great time. It felt good to unplug from life and hang out, and the mimosa you'd had was hitting you harder than you'd expected. You hadn't relaxed with a friend like this since college.

"Oh I think it's kind of natural" Aimee said, staring at the guy on TV, "It's like... she *gets* that he should come first, and that she's lucky to have him at all. I mean, look at him!"

"He is hot," you allowed, ignoring Aimee's backward worldview, "but cheating is-"

"-super fun?" Aimee was grinning.

"You slut! You *knew* I wasn't going to say that!" Wait. Weren't you upset with Greg for calling her a slut? You felt *very* tipsy, but you'd only had one drink so far. You sighed, voicing a growing concern: "What's in these mimosas?"

"Hey, *all* women are sluts, Stefi! I just *own* it! ... And I *might* have put a little vodka in our mimosas." Her voice held no apology. "...or a lot."

"Noooo! You're poisoning me!" You cried out in semi-mock outrage, tossing a throw pillow over at her. You missed. You would be mad, but you were having too much fun. "You're *so* bad!"

Aimee grinned back, triumphant and flirtatious. "I am, and it feels so *good!*" Her grin became mischievous. "You're more fun when you're drunk anyway. What did you fight with Greg about?"

This called for another cookie. "These things are like crack, Aimee."

She nodded sagely, waiting for you to continue.

Reluctantly, you did. "Well, part of it was about you actually. You... and your... you know. Breasts."

Aimee's eyebrows raised. "You were arguing about my tits? That's actually kinda hot." She looked down at them accusingly, then gave her chest an intriguing shake. "What did the girls do this time?"

*It is kinda hot, really.* That voice was going to get you into trouble. *She has fantastic boobs.* You felt dizzy again.

You'd never really been attracted to women, but suddenly you were *very* curious what her chest felt like. Aimee exuded sex in a way that was impossible to ignore.

"Well," you continued still, "he said they were fake, and that you were a slut..." You weren't telling it right. "They're really nice breasts." The room felt hot.

"They're pretty great." Aimee's voice had gone soft too. The silence stretched as you lost your train of thought, staring at her chest. She was looking at you, too, you realized with surprise.