Rachel was becoming quite the card sharp. On weekends, she frequently broke out her XXX Poker deck. It was a way "to get us started," as she said a couple of times.
Not that we needed it. We had become self-starting. Just sharing wine or a pipe, and/or putting on some music was enough to bring us into close physical contact, and things just evolved from there. It was getting too chilly on fall nights for naked pool parties, but a fast dance inside was enough to raise body heat and discards of clothing.
While we had other interests, and would often team up for dinner out, theater excursions, outdoor sports or other non-erotic events, we could count on at least one sexcapade each weekend, with Sunday usually a night of rest. It could be called a routine, except that routines can become boring, but this arrangement was new enough that we were still juiced.
During the week, we worked and lived our separate lives, unless someone needed help on something or there was a special event we all wished to attend. When we became turned on during the week, we had our spouses for relief, but on weekends the pairing was routinely different: Lila gravitated to Eli and I to Rachel, even without commands from the poker deck. The card game was almost superfluous, although to add interest, one or the other of us would sometimes decline a reward in order to build up points, and then try to outbid the winner of a subsequent hand to usurp an especially coveted sexual reward.
Rachel took it upon herself to increase the stakes of the game, and restore our interest in it.
Lila and I went to their house one Friday, looking forward to the usual interaction with our good friends/lovers, but entering the parlor were surprised to see another couple visiting. I was a little disappointed that a normal social evening was going to displace my time between Rachel's legs.
I vaguely remembered seeing these people, either individually or together, at some community events, although their names escaped me. I had never spoken more than a passing word with either.
Rachel did the introductions: John and Anne Scrivens. That jogged my recollection. He was an architect, she a real estate agent who was also active in a garden club. They were in their mid-30s, well-dressed, probably over-dressed for an informal gathering. Anne was a little plump, but still curved in the right places. John had rugged features with a receding hairline. They were cognizant of Lila and I and our roles in the regional community. I had the impression they were surprised to see us, and scrutinizing us more than would be expected.
The atmosphere was somewhat strained. John seemed to direct most of his attention to Rachel and Lila, praising them both as attractive women and inquiring their views on various social issues revolving around women's rights and sexual freedom, making some stabs at humor which struck me as odd, while Anne giggled and sipped mightily at her wine.
"I have a question for you," Anne said, looking at me with a curious smile. "How do journalists determine what is newsworthy and where to draw the line between public concerns and private one? I assume that social gatherings such as this are strictly off the record," she said, with a nervous titter.
"The flip side of being daring and inquisitive is discretion," Rachel said. "Isn't that right, Danny?"
"No argument there," I said, "although are we talking about the news business or social gatherings?"
"Same principle, isn't it?" John asked. "People at a party don't want to ask too many personal questions or gossip later about what goes on. The foundation of a free press can also be a little shaky. You guys have to know where to draw the line. The local banker may be screwing his secretary, and everybody knows it, but you write it and you'll get yourself canned, your paper sued by deep pockets and pressure will be put on your advertisers to withdraw support. Discretion is the better part of valor."
"Unless you're some pulp tabloid or talk show that sells sensationalism," I said, "although they would try exposing popular celebrities or politicians, which would give them some immunity under 'public figure' rulings. But you're right on a local level -- there is a right to privacy, and self-respecting journalists wouldn't want to breach it anyway. Let the local banker and secretary do what they want, long as they're not hurting anyone, except perhaps a jealous spouse."
"How do you handle jealousy?" Anne asked, draining her wine glass, which Rachel quickly replenished. "I mean, is that a problem?" she asked, looking around. "You all seem like open-minded people, but couldn't jealousy be a problem in such uncharted territory?"
Strange question, I thought.
Anne continued, looking at her husband, "You're also open-minded, John, but you still got a little insecure when I told you about Rachel's idea. I can see where you might get jealous if I seem to be enjoying my time with someone."
"I didn't get insecure, I just don't think we need it," John replied, bristling. "I think we're pretty good. But if you're getting bored, I'm willing to try it, and I won't be jealous if you have fun. Not as long as I can have fun too. Maybe you'll be the jealous and insecure one."
I realized we were not talking about the newspaper business.
"It's not that I'm bored," Anne said. "I just don't see anything wrong with trying something new to spice things up. But I still worry about you, and simply want to know if jealousy or insecurity has been a problem with these people."
"Now don't you guys start fighting," Rachel interjected, laughing. "That would be a turn-off. I might be sorry that Anne and I had that heart-to-heart talk after aerobics." She opened the top drawer of the end table next to her, and removed the deck of cards.
"Maybe to lighten things up we should bring this in as a topic of conversation," she said, passing a few cards and the rules to John and Anne.
I was no longer puzzled at the conversation, but surprised at what Rachel was doing, opening up our cozy little group to strangers in the community.
"So this game is a topic of discussion at aerobics?" I asked Rachel.
"No," she answered, laughing. "It's all confidential. Anne and I hang out some, and feel close enough to get into some serious topics. We had coffee after class one day, and got to talking over our lives. She felt her love life was a little... 'same old'..."
"It's not all that bad," John interrupted.
"Anyway, I told her how involvements with other people had spiced things up for Eli and I, and invited them over to meet some close friends and test the waters, so to speak."
