Abby Comes for a Visit

I had to drive my wife to the airport Sunday evening. It wasn’t high on my list of ways to end the weekend. I’d been pretty stressed out at work the last few weeks. The last thing I wanted was to give up Sunday with my wife.

Erin had a flight to Detroit where she was going for several days of meetings with a client. She was meeting a colleague, one of her firm’s partners, Danielle, at the airport. They’d go to Detroit together. Danielle would drop Erin at the Port Chester train station when they returned.

Erin turned heads. Even in the conservative business suits she wore to work. Her six-foot-one inch height alone made her stand out. Her face could light up any room with a smile. A slender, athletic frame with the right curves, honey brown hair streaked with natural blonde highlights, sapphire-blue eyes and legs so long they seemed like they never ended attracted surreptitious glances from both men and women. Erin had trouble finding pants because she needed a thirty-seven-inch inseam. At six-foot-four, I only needed a thirty-four-inch inseam. I loved those long legs. Especially when they were wrapped around me while we were making love.

Erin and I spent weekends together. Sometimes at home. If the weather and circumstances allowed, we’d spend the weekend on our sailboat. We’d cook breakfast together. If we were home and the weather was nice, I’d pipe the music out to the deck so we could listen while we enjoyed the backyard and the pool. Or the hot tub hidden behind a trellis covered with English ivy.

My wife’s sex drive went into overdrive on weekends, especially Sundays. I’m unsure why. She was often interested in sex on other nights. And some mornings. But Sundays, she was nearly insatiable. Maybe it was her way to decompress from her work week. We were both in our late twenties. Both in high-pressure careers.

Erin was a corporate attorney at a prestigious Wall Street law firm. She became a senior associate so quickly it pissed off associates with more time with the firm and more experience. But less talent. She was on track to become the youngest junior partner in the history of the firm. I managed the number crunchers for a hedge fund. My team’s work was critical, affecting decisions for investments that could yield hundreds of millions of dollars in profits. Or cause inconceivable losses if our calculations led fund managers to make the wrong decision.

We’d enjoy numerous sessions of lovemaking throughout the weekend. If we were on the sailboat, we’d find an isolated area in a cove and drop anchor. At home after a nice evening meal, a couple glasses of wine, and heated caressing, petting, and teasing throughout the evening, we’d end up in bed early for a marathon session, often not falling asleep until after midnight. Exhausted, sated, and relaxed.

Erin’s flight left at noon. All the later flights were sold out, as were the early Monday morning flights. The trip had come up late in the week. LaGuardia Airport was over two hours away. If there was no traffic. We had to be on the road early. Erin had been preoccupied with work all weekend. I understood but I was not happy.

I pulled up to drop my wife at her airline’s terminal. I got out and unloaded her bag. She gave me a hug and kiss appropriate for public spaces and said goodbye. I stood and watched her until she disappeared in the crowd, feeling a bit bummed. I got in the car and drove off before the cop monitoring the drop-off area told me to move it.

Less than an hour later, my cell phone rang through the car’s Bluetooth. Erin’s number displayed on the screen. I answered, wondering if she left something in the car.

‘Hi, babe. What’s up? Leave something in the car?’ I asked.

‘No, I’ve got everything. Where are you?’ she asked.

‘Headed home, maybe halfway to the Whitestone.’ I told her, adding, ‘Already missing you.’

‘You’re sweet. Can you swing back to the airport before you go home? Abby just called. She’s in Philly, boarding for LaGuardia. She should land about the time you get back to the airport. She’s on an American flight.’

‘Did you know she was coming?’ I asked.

‘Not until just before I called you.’

I’d never met Erin’s best friend Abigail, Abby to her friends. She was a climatologist on a research sabbatical from Columbia and had been working in the South American rainforest for the last three years. Most of her time was spent in remote areas with limited access to the outside world. When Erin and I were planning our wedding, we were unable to reach her. We didn’t have a big wedding. But Erin badly wanted Abby to be there. Abby learned about our marriage after the fact. To the best of my knowledge, she didn’t know what I looked like. Photos I’d seen of her were at least five years old.

‘Abby doesn’t know me. It might be tough to find her.’

‘I sent her the photo of you and your father at Yankee Stadium last spring when they played the Red Sox and your cell number.’ Erin told me. ‘She sent me a selfie. I’ll send ankara escort bayan it, her cell number and her flight number when I get off the phone.’ Erin told me.

‘Where am I taking her?’ I asked. I knew Abby had given up her apartment before she left. Her personal belongings were in storage somewhere.

‘She’ll be staying with us for now.’

‘She’s not staying with her parents?’

‘No, they live in Wellfleet, now. She can’t commute to NYC from the Cape. I’m sure the university expects her to be available for teaching assignments when the semester starts in September.’

This presented a problem. We lived in a two-bedroom house. The extra bedroom had been converted to an exercise room and home office. There was no bed in it and no room for one. There was a large space above our garage. But it was unfinished until we figured out what we wanted to do with it. Our sofa wasn’t a sleeper. It was comfortable for sitting but it was terrible for sleeping. I’d made the mistake of falling asleep on it a few times. It sucked as a bed. I felt like I’d been used as a tackling dummy when I woke up.

‘She’s not going to like the sofa.’ I said. ‘And I can’t sleep on it. You know what it did to me.’

Erin didn’t say anything for a moment. What she said next was a shock. ‘She can sleep with you. We’ll figure something out when I get back.’ She told me.

‘You’re yanking my chain. What’s Abby going to think about those arrangements?’ I asked.

I could hear the amusement in Erin’s voice when she responded. I could almost see her smiling. ‘We’ve already talked about it. She’s OK with it. It’s not like we haven’t shared in the past.’

Shared? What the hell did that mean? Erin told me they had dated some of the same guys when they were in college, but what did Erin mean when she said shared?

‘What are you telling me, Erin?’ I asked.

‘I can’t talk much longer. My flight has just been called. Let Abby sleep in the bed with you. You’ve got a hall pass until I get home Wednesday night.’

I had an understanding of the term hall pass. I wasn’t sure if Erin meant what I understood the term to mean.

‘Hall pass?’ I asked.

‘Yeah, hall pass. I know what it means. Gotta go. I’ll talk to you tonight.’

That was explicit enough. But it struck me as odd. I still appreciated an attractive woman and I’m sure Erin enjoyed looking sometimes. But looking was one thing. We didn’t have an open marriage. We had never invited anyone to our bed. Or even joked about it. Now I had permission to sleep with and have sex with her best friend?

I got off at the next exit and turned back to the airport. I parked in a short-term lot and took a shuttle to the American terminal and the luggage carousels. As soon as I boarded the shuttle, I checked my phone and found Abby’s photo and flight info. Her face was thinner. And she looked tired.

When I got to the airport, I found Abby’s flight number on the board. Its status changed to on-time while I was looking at it. A few minutes later, the luggage carousel displayed.

It was another twenty minutes before the first passengers arrived at the carousel. Abby was one of the stragglers. She had the two allowed carry-ons and looked worn down, obviously ready for her journey to end. She was also searching the crowd for me. As I approached, she turned away, sill looking about.

She had just taken out her cell phone when I said, ‘Hi, Abby. I’m right behind you.’

She turned to face me and smiled widely. She didn’t look quite so haggard when she was smiling. She shook my hand, then pulled me into a hug.

‘Hi, Curt. It’s nice to finally meet you,’ she said.

‘Same here. You have more luggage?’ I asked, fully expecting she did.

‘Two suitcases,’ she told me.

‘Point them out, I’ll grab them and we can get going. You look tired. I bet you just want to kick back and relax.’ I told her.

Abby sighed. ‘You have no idea. I’ve been on the go for almost forty-eight hours. I’m hungry and tired. And I could do with a drink, too.’

‘You didn’t have one on the plane?’ I asked.

‘I don’t like to drink when I’m flying. I stick with water. The two idiots I got stuck sitting between drank more than their share. They were traveling together but made me stay in my assigned center seat and talked past me the whole flight. I couldn’t sleep at all.’

Abby looked relieved and happy to see the fourth and fifth bags onto the carousel were hers. We made our way to the car, loaded up and took off for home. Traffic sucked. It took more than two hours just to get to the Whitestone Bridge.

Abby had slimmed down while in South America. She wasn’t fat in the old photos. Full-figured would be more accurate. I thought she looked damn good considering how tired she was. She wore loose-fitting jeans and a red leotard under an unbuttoned long-sleeve shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra. When she moved, I got an occasional glimpse of a nipple pressing against the tight-fitting eryaman escort Lycra.

Abby was a few months older than Erin and perhaps four inches shorter, though still tall. I’d guess about five-nine, maybe five eight. She had same color hair as Erin without blonde highlights. Erin had a full head of long, straight hair. Abby’s was short, thick and wavy. Her hair style had a sexy just-rolled-out-of-bed quality to it. She wasn’t flat-chested but no longer had the prominent breasts from the old photos. Her brown eyes had flecks of gold that glinted when the sun caught them. Abby had a wide mouth that presented a goofy countenance when she smiled widely. When she laughed, you couldn’t help but join in.

We got acquainted on the drive home. Abby was friendly and open, had a quick, acerbic wit and smiled readily. She was very easy to like. We got so comfortable with each other it seemed like we were old friends before we got home. My relationships with the best friends of girlfriends before Erin had been problematic. This was a welcome change.

My sister and her best friend, who I dated briefly, were tight. Both had been scholarship athletes with deep-rooted competitive streaks. There was always this underlying tension between them. They took occasional biting, but good-natured pot-shots at each other, when together and in conversations with me when they were apart. Don’t get me wrong, they loved each other and would wreak havoc on anyone that did harm to the other. But it made life awkward for me sometimes. I didn’t detect any competitiveness or pettiness in Abbie. And never heard any from Erin. Abby was clearly looking forward to seeing Erin and I was sure Erin felt the same way.

I offered to take Abby to dinner but she preferred to eat in. She asked if we could have beef for dinner, complaining she hadn’t had a good steak in forever. We made a quick stop at the supermarket for rib eyes and salad fixings. Abby asked if I had any tequila at home. When I said we had an unopened bottle, she filled a bag with limes. She wanted to pay but I insisted on treating.

At the house, I seasoned the steaks for grilling and set them out while Abby made a pitcher of margaritas. After literally gulping one down, she asked if she had time for a quick shower before dinner.

When the shower stopped, I knocked and opened the bathroom door a crack to ask if I should put the steaks on. After receiving an affirmative reply, I took them outside and put them on the already hot grill.

Abby joined me a few minutes later looking refreshed and energetic. She wore only a pink Lycra leotard that snapped at the crotch and a pair of shorty socks the same color. I did a double-take. The leotard hid nothing. I turned back to the grill to hide my growing cock.

We ate dinner then watched a baseball game while we finished the margaritas. I was impressed. Abby was an observant and knowledgeable fan. She was pretty good at predicting how the pitcher would work the batter. She was critical of the manager when he pulled the starting pitcher with two-out in the seventh when he gave up his third hit on a 1-2 count. The broken-bat dinger barely got by the shortstop and died immediately in shallow left. The starter had issued two walks, one on a questionable call. There had never been two baserunners in an inning and none advanced past first. You can’t know what might have happened if the starter stayed in. But the reliever promptly gave up a double, a single, and a two-run homer, and a walk before being pulled. What had been a 2-0 lead was now the short end of a 4-2 score, which turned out to be the final score.

Erin called just after the game ended. We talked for a only few minutes because she was tired. She and Danielle had worked on the flight and again when they got to the hotel. I offered a chance to talk to Abby but she declined, saying she wanted to get to bed and would talk to her tomorrow.

It was time to address sleeping arrangements.

‘Erin told me we’d have to share the bed for a couple of nights because you only have one bedroom and the couch sucks,’ Abby said, smiling.

‘That’s what she told me, too.’ I hesitated. ‘I’m a little uneasy about it.’ I admitted.

‘Don’t be. She gave us a hall pass.’ Abby’s smile grew wide.

‘I know. I thought that was a little strange. Don’t you?’ I asked.

‘You’ve been married how long?’

‘Almost a year. We dated for a year, but were acquainted for about two years before that. We met through my sister Jen. We ran into each other a bunch of times at parties at Jen’s house. We seemed to hit it off but didn’t connect for a while. First, I was seeing someone. Then she was.’

‘Let’s just go to bed. I’m tired. Maybe you can get over your uneasiness after a good night’s rest,’ she told me.

It was only a little after nine PM, but that’s exactly what we did. Abby went to Erin’s side of the bed, took off the leotard, said good night, pulled the sheet over herself. She rolled onto her side etlik escort with her back to me. She was asleep almost immediately. My erection kept me awake far too long.

When Erin was home, our work day began early. Erin worked at a Wall Street law firm and had an onerous daily commute. I worked in Stamford. I dropped Erin at the train station for the 6:02 AM train and then went to work a few minutes away. My days were long, too. Erin’s train got into Stamford, at about seven, just as I was wrapping up my day. Occasionally, I had to wait for the next train because Erin ran late. But overall, our schedules meshed conveniently.

My alarm was set to go off at four. Once or twice a month Erin woke me before that. At first, I thought it was one of those mornings. My cock was hard. The warm body up against me, the head on my shoulder, and the fingers lightly gliding up and down my erection were a much more pleasant wake-up than the alarm clock.

‘That feels nice,’ I whispered, my eyes still closed, not entirely convinced I wasn’t dreaming.

‘I’m glad you like it.’

I started. It wasn’t my wife’s voice. I lifted my head, and saw Abby smiling at me from my shoulder. ‘What are you doing?’ was all I managed to get out.

Abby laughed. ‘Hall pass, remember? I got a good night’s sleep. I always wake up early. You were making a tent in the sheet so I thought I’d provide a little extra stimulation. I thought if I was gentle enough, I could entertain myself without waking you.’

Abby didn’t stop caressing my cock, which throbbed harder with each passing moment. As the fog of sleep cleared, I remembered she had taken off the only item of clothing she wore after getting out of the shower. Her right leg was draped over my left. Her head was on my shoulder. A hard nipple pressed against my rib cage. Abby’s hair smelled heavenly.

Abby’s hand closed around the head of my cock and twisted softly and slowly. Her touch was light and soft. And driving me to distraction. Another moment or so and her hand would be filled with thick, sticky goo. Which was probably her intent.

I still wasn’t sure about all this. I twisted onto my left side and moved away. Abby’s hand released me when I sat up. She sat up, too.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

‘I’m still not sure about this, Abby.’ I told her. ‘I haven’t been with anyone else since I started dating Erin. Certainly not since we got married.’

‘Wait a second.’ Abby said as she got out of bed and left the room.

The sight of her slender, muscular legs and heart-shaped ass didn’t relieve the pressure in my groin. When she returned, the frontal view was mesmerizing. I’d only had a glimpse of her unclad body last night, though her leotard left little to the imagination. Now I had seen it all. She was gorgeous, but I already knew that.

Abby was carrying her smart phone, looking at the screen and tapping. ‘Why don’t you take a quick look at this?’ she said, handing me the phone. ‘Erin and I texted for a few minutes before she called you.’

The display showed a series of texts between Abby and Erin. I scrolled through them, reading each. The first was the photo of me and my dad at Yankee Stadium with my contact info, followed by the selfie Abby had sent along with her flight info. The next couple of texts were routine stuff, Erin’s scheduled return, the well-being of their respective parents and siblings, our lack of a spare bedroom and crappy couch. The next few were eye-opening.

Abby: ‘I need to get laid. Three years is way too long.’

Erin: ‘Nobody on your expedition team?’

Abby: ‘Are you kidding? Old and brilliant, insufferably boring except during professional discussions.

Abby: ‘One local guy was appealing. But the hygiene of locals left something to be desired. Of course, most of the time I needed a bath, too. Lol’

Erin: ‘Curt can take care of you if you like. I’ll give you both a hall pass. It’s not like it would be the first time we shared a guy.’ Smiley face emoticon

Abby: ‘But those were guys we knew weren’t going to be long-term relationships. Curt’s your husband. That’s different.’

Erin: ‘I’m not giving him to you.’

Erin: ‘He’s been stressed out at work lately. He could use a little loosening up. You might be doing me a favor, too.’

Abby: ‘What will he think? Will he go for it?’

Erin: ‘Not at first. He’s loyal to a fault, loves me endlessly. Wouldn’t cheat on me if Charlize Theron threw herself at him. Show him these texts if necessary.’

Abby: ‘Loves you endlessly? Does that mean what I hope it means? Or just that he loves you deeply?’

Erin: ‘He loves me deeply. And endlessly. His stamina and recovery is impressive. He spoils me on weekends. You’ll be pleased.’

Erin: ‘But don’t tell him I said so.’

Abby: ‘What do we do when you get back?’

Erin: ‘We’ve got a king size bed. We’ll squeeze you in with us.’

Abby: Smiley face emoticon. ‘Should I look forward to a threesome in our future? We haven’t done that since senior year at NYU. Lol’

Erin: ‘Maybe between us we can wear him out. I run out of gas before he does.’

Abby: ‘It’ll be fun to try. I kind of miss the old college days of wanton debauchery.’