Dinner, Chapter 6

Disclosure: AI-Generation. This story is a product of collaboration between the author and AI, serving three key roles: Writing Assistance (to refine grammar, enhance ideas, and adjust tone); Personalized Feedback (offering critique and suggestions for improving the narrative); and Visual Creation (entrusting the image generation to AI, as it lies outside my expertise). In crafting this narrative, I employed the capabilities of ChatGPT and Mistral for textual content, alongside Dall-E-3 for the visualization aspects.

Returning to the waterbed, the ladies lay on their stomachs again, side by side. Lyra, her mind wandering, asked about the set of cards strewn across the table that she had moved to make way for her cocktail. "What have you been playing?" she asked Emma, who looked over at her with a mischievous grin.

"Oh, it's probably too spicy for you," Emma teased, causing Lyra to blush and insist that she could handle it.

Emma chuckled, “Think of it as crazy eights with a sexy twist. Winning a trick lets you sideline one of the next two cards. They're ordinary cards, but each one has its own... additional meaning.”

"How can you remember everything?" asked Lyra.

"Oh, most of the cards are self-explanatory, when you use your imagination a little," Emma said confidently, then whispered, “A dirty girl like you should have no trouble catching on.”

Playing along, Lyra whispered, “So, I guess a two stands for boobs?”

Emma smiled back, "Close, but a two is a position card—cowgirl, to be exact. Well, red two is cowgirl, and black twos are reverse cowgirl. Just think of the shape your body makes when you... 'assume the position.'"

"So, what's boobs then?" Lyra blurted out before she could stop herself.

"Oh, babe, you're a little frisky tonight." Emma leaned over and pecked Lyra lightly on the cheek. She turned on her side saying, "Look at me!" Then Emma traced her finger along the curves of the underside of her breasts and silently mouthed three to Lyra.

Lyra blushed deeply and grabbed for her drink, taking an oversized sip to match her gulp.

Continuing, Emma drew Lyra's hand to her chest, 'When you win a trick, you could draw a focus card—like my boobs—or a control or position card, like cowgirl. If one of the types is already part of the action trick, then you can change it. The game continues until all three types of cards for the action trick are present. And that's when the magic happens," Emma winked again, causing Lyra to giggle nervously as she reclaimed her hand.

Trying to distract herself from Emma's upper torso, Lyra looked at the now scattered cards left from a previous game, and wondered what they meant. She couldn't help but feel a little thrill at the thought, even though she had never tried anything like it before.

Noticing Lyra's expression, Emma squeezed her hand. “Don't worry, you only do what you're comfortable with,” she reassured softly, and Lyra sighed at her friend's confidence.

Lyra picked up the deck of cards and shuffled it, her curiosity was getting the better of her. She dealt three cards and looked at them, her brow furrowing in confusion. "What does this mean?" she asked, turning to Emma.

Emma glanced at the cards, "well, you have two positions and one focus, so you need to change one of these positions for a control card," she explained. She picked up the pack, quickly searching through, she pulled out a red ten, discarding the black seven. "This is our dream card, for getting them to work for us," she whispered.

Lyra looked at Emma expectantly, still waiting for her to explain what it all meant.

Emma grinned and shuffled closer to Lyra, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Okay, so the first position card is a black two, which means.."

"Reverse cowgirl," Lyra said.

Emma continued, "This second card is Black four, which means you are going to be in control, and he is going to be sitting. And then the focus card is our favourite red ten, which means they have to focus on our vaginas."

Lyra looked at the cards again and then back at Emma. "So would that actually mean?" she asked, her mind racing.

Emma grinned. "It means you would be in control. If he's sitting on the couch, then you can sit on his lap, ask him to use a finger or even use his willy," she whispered, causing Lyra to blush deeply. "I like a bit of willy myself," Emma added with a wink. "Or you can stand a little and get him to nibble on your special place."

Lyra's eyes widened. "You mean I would sit on his face?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought that’s only done in 3DEs?”

Emma laughed. "Oh babe, that's really normal… I think we need to get you on a course. Look, if it's what you want, then you can ask for it. The focus card is on the vagina, and you are in control so you could ask him to focus on that area. And if these cards had come up, I would have demanded all three," she added with a mischievous grin.

Emma poked Lyra, coaxing her to meet her gaze. “You know, it's a great position for taking charge and setting the pace... And with the other side having to focus on your vagina, it can be incredibly pleasurable."

Lyra bit her lip, as she considered the possibility. "I don't know if he’d go for it," she said hesitantly.

Emma gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, you just need to practise your sales pitch, babe. Build it up, tell him, it’s the cards who let him get to his deepest fantasies. He won’t be able to resist. And remember what I said before? It's all about exploring what feels good for you. If you don't want to do it, that's totally fine. But if you do, I think you'll find it can be a lot of fun. You know you could always try the solitaire version with our new friend?"

Vix's arrival heralded a change in atmosphere. “Shit, I got overconfident and blew my load,” she said, sauntering over with the confidence of someone still holding all the aces. Looking down at her friends, with their heads bent over a hand of cards, she added "what's this little pow-wow about?" Her eyes glinted with playful curiosity.

Without waiting for an invitation, she squeezed herself onto the bed between Lyra and Emma. Emma's brows knitted together, a silent protest at the intrusion. She wanted to be next to Lyra, to maintain the thread of their burgeoning connection. In a quiet act of defiance, she pinched Vix discreetly in the side, a signal of stolen space.

Vix, ever the embodiment of nonchalance, simply flashed a grin and ignored the pinch. She looked at the cards, "Wooh, 'No Holds Barred'? That's stepping into the deep end for Vanil-LyLy here. You're on fire tonight, Em?"

Lyra's patience thinned, and she snapped at the label, “I am not that innocent,” she declared, her voice tinged with frustration and a hint of pride.

Vix's laughter erupted, an infectious sound that filled the room, her amusement clear as day. "Oh, LyLy, you're just full of surprises, aren't you?" she teased, still chuckling.

Emma's smile was a broad mix of affection for Lyra and annoyance at Vix. She pinched Vix again, a bit harder this time, her tone mock scolding, "Now, lay off, Vix. Unlike some of us, Lyra has a proper job. She doesn't have time to indulge in these frivolities."

The camaraderie and playful teasing on the waterbed were abruptly interrupted by the synchronised buzzing of three wrist monitors. A shared concern flitted across their faces as they instinctively checked the alerts. "I'll get it," Lyra said, her voice taking on a tone of responsibility as she rose from the cushiony surface of the bed and made her way to the poker table.

As Lyra approached Mike, a slight undercurrent of concern was palpable in the air. The warning was discrete but clear, a digital guardian against past regret. The lake-house incident still echoed in the collective memory of many at the table, a stark reminder that Mike's joviality could take a treacherous turn with one drink too many.

Lyra's response, however, was not one of admonishment but of camaraderie and care. She leaned in, planting a light, friendly kiss on Mike's cheek, her gesture simultaneously affectionate and grounding. With a deft hand, she whisked away the cocktail that sat before him, its contents half-finished but no longer welcome.

"Let's get you something else," she suggested, her voice carrying the warmth of friendship and the firmness of their shared understanding.

Mike offered a sheepish smile, the subtle intervention reminding him of the limits he'd agreed to respect. "Sounds good, LyLy, it was my last one anyway." he said as if it was nothing.

Reaching the bar, Lyra began to mix a mocktail with the practised ease of someone who'd played this role more than once. The clink of ice and the pour of vibrant juices created a new, safer concoction—a symbol of the support system they had built around Mike.

As she returned with the mocktail, the tension at the table eased. The exchange was a delicate balance between enjoying the night's festivities and honouring the pact they had all made to protect one another.

Lyra glanced around the table; the unlikely 'Pride and Prejudice' duo now had significantly smaller chip stacks. Astra's attention seemed to drift, her hands more interested in the strands of Jenna's hair than the cards she was dealt—a silent dance of affection playing out on the periphery of the game.

The Martian, still engaged in the match, watched the drink exchange with a quizzical air, his focus divided between the game's strategy and the group's dynamics.

As Lyra leaned over to wrap Mike in a reassuring hug, her lips brushing his cheek with a second kiss, the table's attention briefly centred on them. Sir Foldsalot, always the one for quips, raised an eyebrow in mock warning. "LyLy, don't you say a word!" he called out. "And Astra, keep your hands to yourself."

Jenna responded with a playful retort, sticking out her tongue. "Spoilsport, I was enjoying that. And anyway, Ace will make sure nothing untoward happens."

"Ah, the delicate art of multitasking: managing friendships, monitoring merriment, and mastering poker. It seems this table excels at two out of three—and I'll leave it to you to decide which," Ace's voice resonated through the speakers, a hint of digital mirth lacing her words.

The table erupted into laughter, the moment dissolving into the warmth of shared amusement. Lyra smiled, her role as the evening's guardian fulfilled, she could get back to the discussions on eye-opening card games. The players' laughter followed her like a pleasant backdrop as she returned to the fireside.