It was nine days after the neighborhood house party I recently described. My wife, Barb, got a telephone call from Margie, our Scottish neighbor down the street. Margie called to invite us to join them in celebrating a Norwegian holiday. Ivan, Margie's husband, was Norwegian and approached all of life with gusto.
Our other neighbors had been rather quiet since the wild house party. I was surprised that we heard from Margie and Ivan so soon. On the other hand, they were European and much more casual about intimate relationships than the rest of us.
Barb told me about Margie's call and said that she had accepted her Friday evening invitation when Margie told her that it would be just the four of us.
"Are you sure you want to get that cozy with them?" I asked, wondering why Barb had accepted without checking with me first.
"They're really very nice," she replied a little sheepishly.
"It wouldn't have anything to do with seeing them relaxing on that king size bed with Walt last week, would it?" I quizzed with a sly grin.
Barb flushed a bit. "I only saw them for a moment, you know," she responded.
"What were they doing when you just glanced at them on your way to the bathroom?" I pressed.
"Well, Margie was kissing and playing with Ivan at the time. Walt was just watching them."
"Playing with Ivan?" I repeated. "Playing how?"
My wife glanced away uncomfortably. "She was kind of sucking on Ivan," she finally admitted.
"So, you got a good look at Ivan's long dick, eh?" I teased good-naturedly.
"How do you know he has a long one?" Barb shot back.
"When they left the master bedroom, Margie and Ivan went to the guestroom. I saw them when I went looking for you. It was easy to see that Ivan is pretty well hung," I replied gently.
"Then, Lynn saw them too, didn't she?"
I smiled, recalling how Margie looked from the back as she rode her husband's long dong. "Yeah, we peeked in, but we didn't bother them."
Barb thought for a moment. "Well, this is only a dinner celebration. Margie said that we would feast on boiled shrimp, a special Norwegian recipe, and toast each other with something she called glugg. I thought it would be fun."
I had a feeling there might be more to it than just shrimp and glugg, but decided that it would, indeed, be fun to see what Friday evening would bring.
*** It was about seven o'clock when Barb and I walked the short distance to Margie and Ivan's home. They met us warmly and offered us a drink to start the evening. We had a couple of drinks along with small talk, skirting any discussion of the prior week's party.
Margie wore her long, dark hair down, framing her pretty face. She wore a short, black dress and medium heels. A strand of pearls around her neck finished her look. Ivan wore cords and a bright yellow sweater or Nordic design.
I wore navy slacks and a golf shirt. Barb chose to wear a multi-colored print dress and black heels. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. At the time, I thought to myself, "Here are two very well decked-out couples.
Margie showed us to their dining room. Crepe paper decorations hung over the table, and each place was set with party favors and a variety of glassware.
"Very festive," I complimented as we took our seats.
Margie brought in a huge tray of whole shrimp, heads, tails, and all, while Ivan filled our glasses with his famous glugg.
"Here is the rule," Ivan told us. "If I toast you, Barb, you must look directly into my eyes as we complete our toast. If you look away during the toast, you must drink the entire glass down. Got it?"
Before my wife could answer, Ivan announced "Skoal", and raised to Barb. My wife did her best to look into his eyes, but looked down at the last moment. She had to empty her glass.
Margie toasted me and, wouldn't you know it, I looked away and had to down my drink also.
"This isn't easy," Barb complained. "You guys have an advantage because you have done it before."
"You need more practice", Margie countered as she toasted Barb and smiled.
Again, Barb failed the toast and drank another full glass of Ivan's strong potion.
We dove into the shrimp, following Ivan as he pulled off heads and feelers, peeling off shell and enjoying the sweet meat. As the platter of shrimp grew smaller, the toasts continued and we all ended up feeling very festive. I never did learn what we were celebrating, but by then, it didn't really matter!
"Paul, you are a very naughty boy," Margie said as she toasted me yet again.
"How so?" I replied innocently.
Margie grinned. "Did you enjoy watching me ride Ivan last week?"
