It had been several days, several tense days, since the "Night of the Fruit Fight" as I've come to call it. (No, really, cucumbers are technically fruit. Look it up.) We had our usually flirty repartee at the office, but not much had happened on the home front. She was busy, I was busy, and after our last encounter that ended up with her having a "peaches and cream" desert licked off of my cock, there weren't too many areas in which we could "flirt" without it becoming far more serious than Danni most likely wanted.
Me? I was all in favor of full-on dating/monogamy/exclusivity/whatever. However, Danni was not, apparently, in full agreement. She had said she didn't want to date co-workers. We were not only that, we were cube-mates. So, interestingly, us exchanging cum was somehow OK, as long as it didn't constitute dating.
How does one define dating? To quote Justice Potter Stewart, "I know it when I see it." So, we weren't dating. There was more a mutual sexual release than actual affection.
I felt rather affectionate, no doubt there. She did too, I'd guess. There had to be some attraction there. But she had some sort of imaginary lines that we shouldn't cross. So, I played along for the last few weeks. Her lines were pretty fuckin' high, mind you. We'd gotten off together, tasted each other, and pushed our own boundaries in some ways.
But, there was no kissing, no real expression of attraction, no making of love. I was certainly of the mind that I'd love to make love to Danni, not fuck her. Oh, at some point, I was sure there'd be wall-to-wall, over-the-top, balls-to-the-wall, let-someone-write-an-epic-poem-about-it, FUCKING. But, we were not there.
I'd love to be there, obviously. However, my feelings about her emanated from my brain, not my balls. I would just as soon stroke her hair as have her stroke my cock.
Danni had asked me to help her prep for an upcoming party she was having. It was to be the next Sunday, over the three-day Memorial Day weekend. As long as I got to watch some auto racing (I am a world-class gearhead), I'd be in for whatever she asked.
So, we planned for a party on Sunday. It was to be at her place. I helped her with the grocery shopping (with pants this time, unfortunately), picking up some beer, and dragging my ass to the butchers to buy half of my body weight in hot dogs (a pain, to be sure, but they are so much tastier than the store bought wieners).
Sunday rolled around, and I walked across the alley to Danni's pretty early. I helped her set up the food, and appointed myself Grill Master General, and grabbed my ceremonial barbecue tongs.
The party itself was pretty good. Loud music, people talking and free flowing drinks. I noticed that Danni had invited the cute IT guy. I also noticed that several of her "non-work" friends of hers were there, and they were pretty cute as well.
Of course, I would have loved to have monopolized Danni's attention. But, she was the hostess with the mostess, so I tried hard not to be underfoot every time she turned around. She did bump in to me several times, some of which involved a discrete smack on the ass (either hers or mine) as we passed each other. Since I had the tongs, I spent a good deal of time near the grill. This was likely a good thing as it kept my mind occupied.
I did notice that she seemed to spend some time with the cute IT guy. She got close to him. She giggled, and seemed to flirt with him. Leaned in to him. As she laughed, she put her hand on his chest.
This was simply not cool with me.
What the hell was going on? My penis was in her mouth less than a week ago. So, why was she so fucking friendly with him right now?
Now, I did not have a claim to her, in any sense. But, still, what the fuck? Does she get to flirt with another dude when she and I have fooled around a little?
But, that was the issue, wasn't it? She and I weren't dating. We were not anything but fuck buddies who hadn't gotten around to fucking yet. Both of us were free to see whomever we wanted. The issue was I didn't want to see anyone but her.
I tried to not "stalk" her at her own party. I mingled, chatted up a few people and manned the grill.
One of Danni's friends was a girl named Becca. Becca was a friend from college, she was in one of the photos Danni had up from her trip to Spain. She was cute, red headed and slender. She wore a little tease of a white sundress that almost went transparent when she was back-lit by the sun. She was certainly flirty, and more outgoing than Danni, who I thought was pretty forward herself.
I hung around after most people had left and helped with the clean-up and recovery effort. It wasn't too bad, this had been more of a backyard cookout than a beer bash. Soon, it was just Danni, Becca and myself. Becca was a little too tipsy to drive, so she was going to stay over at Danni's place. After I dropped the last bag of garbage in to my trash can (Danni's was full), I walked back over to see if there was anything else that needed cleaning. It was around midnight, so it was somewhat late, but we didn't have to work the next day due to the holiday.
"So, is there anything else you need me to do?" I asked as I opened another beer and sat down on Danni's couch.
"Yes, I just realized we forgot something I was planning. The swimming pool." Danni said.
"Swimming pool? What pool?" I asked. It wasn't as if our townhouse development had a communal pool, and there certainly weren't large enough back yards to support one.
Danni got up, went in to the closet, and grabbed a box. It was for a kiddie pool, the kind that was about six feet across and two feet deep.
"I was going to put this out on the deck, but I forgot about it once the party got rolling," she explained.
"Um, that thing is almost as big as your deck. Would the deck take the weight of all that water? You wouldn't want the deck collapsing on top of your garage or having your Civic flooded." I wondered aloud.
Danni explained: "I asked Chad about it. He said that since the weight was spread out over a large area, it wasn't any different than having 10 people out there. Something about a person's weight being in a small area putting more force on the deck than this pool would..."
"OK, that makes sense. Wait, who's Chad?" I asked.
"The Cute IT guy you were glaring at all night." Danni responded
"He WAS cute..." Becca chimed in from across the room as she picked through Danni's CD collection.
"I wasn't glaring." I said, perhaps a little too defensively.