Using the Hall Pass

Using the Hall Pass

By Cal Bishop

Author's Note

This is my first foray into the Loving Wives category. I'm not sure how many stories there will be with these characters or where it'll go, but I am sure it won't be a BTB story. If that's what you're looking for, I recommend you look elsewhere.

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Scenarios depicted here are intended to be fun fantasy, but may be illegal, immoral, and/or dangerous if actually attempted in real life. All characters in sexual situations are over 18.

Using the Hall Pass

Tracy always told everyone that she and Robbie never had any fights, but that wasn't true. When she thought about it, she could remember one fight. But in some situations it was too embarrassing to tell anyone about, and in others it was just too confusing.

"I can't believe you want to fuck someone else!" She yelled. Dinner plates were on the table with leftovers growing cold on them and glasses half-empty; after-dinner conversation had gone in a direction she hadn't expected.

Neither did Robbie, apparently. He threw his hands up and stepped back from the table. "I didn't say I wanted to fuck someone else, I said I wanted a threesome! I mean, I asked what you'd think about a threesome! That's all!"

"Yeah, right! Sure!" she said sarcastically. "You expect me to believe you were asking something like that without knowing what answer you wanted?"

He rubbed his forehead and rolled his eyes. "Okay, yes, I'd like to try something like that. And if it results in me having sex with the third person, that might be nice. But that's it!"

He shrugged theatrically, opening his arms to all the possibilities she could imagine. "If it results in you having sex with the third person, that might also be nice! And if it's just the two of us making out with a third person and then they leave before we get it on, that might also be nice! I'm open to possibilities!"

She wanted to keep arguing, but paused when she realized he was serious, as crazy and stupid as it sounded. He filled the silence. "I know your last relationship, that Jaime guy, wasn't great. You haven't given me many details, which is fine, but I gather he was kind of pushy about personal stuff. That's not what I'm doing. Really, I was, am, just asking. If the answer is no, that's fine."

"Thank you for being so understanding," Tracy said stiffly. "The answer is no. And this isn't just about my ex. I'm not interested in women like that, and I don't like the idea of... seeing you with another woman, even if I'm there."

He raised an eyebrow. "I never said it had to be another woman. If you want a threesome with me and another guy, I'm open to the idea."

She looked at him even more skeptically than before. "So, you want to, what, share me with one of your bros?" she asked. "Haven't high-fived a guy over a chick's back since college, huh?"

He took a deep breath and shook his head. "I'm really sorry if you think I was just trying to get permission to have sex with another woman," he muttered. "Give me one minute." He walked around her to the bookshelf and heaved up the box full of study materials from when they were getting ready for the GMAT. He pulled a blank note card out of a stack bound with a rubber band, took out a pen, hunched over the table, and started writing.

Tracy frowned, curious. She couldn't see what he was writing around the box and his body.

When he finished writing whatever he was writing, he paused for a moment, studying it. Eventually he straightened out and handed it to her with a flourish.

She read it with a frown. Across the top, it said, "HALL PASS." Below it in the best handwriting she had ever seen from Robbie, it said, "The bearer of this pass is entitled to one session of sex with the person of their choice with no consequences from the giver of this pass. Expiration date: December 1, 2045. Date redeemed: ________"

"What does this mean?" she asked, holding it at arm's length.

He shrugged as if it should be obvious. "I'd like it if we experimented with other people in bed. Got a little adventurous. You've made it clear that you don't want me touching another woman. Fair enough, you know, it's a normal request. So I'm saying you can experiment first. If it goes well, then we can talk about what else we might like to experiment with."

"2045? You think we'll be together that long?"

He shrugged and gave her a theatrically roguish smile. "If we are, and if you still haven't used this by then, I must be doing something right!"

"It doesn't say anything about love on it, or any other feelings," she said, hoping to shock him to his senses. They hadn't used that word about each other so far.

"True, but it does say 'one session'," he pointed out. "If you care about someone else more than me, then we're over whether you have a hall pass or not. If you have an emotional affair, but stop and tell me about it before more than one, you know, session, then we may be able to deal with it. On the other hand if you have sex with other guys 5 times before we talk about it, that's a problem for us whether you love him or me or neither of us."

"I'm not using this," she said, too confused to be mad.

"That's your choice," he said smoothly. "I'm just saying, if you want to, you have the option."

Tracy tucked the pass in her old dog-eared copy of Dragonriders of Pern, just because it was handy and she wanted to get the confusing notecard out of sight. "Anyways, don't be silly, you're all the man I need," she said, forcing herself to smile at them, at the situation.

He smiled at her awkwardly. "Thanks. You too," he said. "I mean... I'm sorry I gave you the impression that you weren't enough woman for me."

They hugged and discussed cleaning up the leftovers.

Over the following month, neither of them brought up any kind of sexual "experiment." Tracy figured Robbie wanted her to speak up about it first and decided she could be more stubborn than him.

Time continued to pass. Over the following year they became more comfortable with the "love" word. The year after that, they got engaged. The year after that, married. The year after that, they pooled their savings and made a down payment on a house and moved out of their tiny, old, not-up-to-code apartment. Just two months later, Tracy took a pregnancy test and it came back positive.

* * *

Another wild Monday night, Robbie thought with chagrin as he crept downstairs, being careful not to step on the third squeaky step, just in case it would wake up Izzy or Chris. At 4 and 6, bedtimes were getting better, but still definitely not easy.

He poked his head into the living room to speak to Tracy. "I think they're down. I'm thinking about dessert. You want anything from the kitchen while I'm up?"

"You could bring over the cookie jar," she said after a moment's thought.

He nodded, and did a double take and grinned, admiring her pose. I'm a lucky man, he thought. Normally when it was his turn to put the children to bed, he'd come down to find her in a t-shirt and shorts or sweatpants, her phone in her hand, waiting for him to discuss what they'd stream on TV. But that night she was still in the sun dress she had worn to the office that day and had her legs folded under her, just a little cleavage showing, comfortable but poised.

She was still in the same pose when he returned. "So what do you want to watch?" he asked as he handed her the cookie jar.

"Actually, I wanted to talk first, if you don't mind," she said as she put the cookie jar on the coffee table.

"Uh oh!" He joked.

She smiled politely at that but didn't laugh. She took a deep breath before speaking. "Do you remember, back when we were in the apartment, when you gave me a hall pass?"

"Yes," he answered.

"What would you say if I used it? Hypothetically?"

He arched an eyebrow and thought carefully before speaking. "Hypothetically... if you did the thing I gave you permission to do... because you thought it would be fun and, you know, feel good, and if it did... then I'd be glad," he said. She kept waiting, so he continued, "And I'd probably be curious, and think it was hot and want to talk about trying other things like that, but that depends on details."

"Really," she said, sounding fascinated. "I could have had sex with another man, and you wouldn't be jealous or mad, you'd be happy about it?"

"I did give you the pass," he pointed out. "There's no one to be mad at besides myself. Hypothetically."

"Right," she said, looking lost in thought for a second. Then their faces were drawn together and they kissed.

She broke the kiss. "And you said you'd be curious about how it went, hypothetically," she said, her face still just inches from his. "You'd really like to hear the details? You'd like to hear about me... with another man? About me sucking another man's dick? Maybe more?"

Robbie's heart raced. He chuckled and hoped it didn't sound nervous. "First, I think I want to ask if this is hypothetical or not," he said. He put his arm around her and pulled her in for a kiss. He broke it quickly and continued talking, their faces still inches apart. "Are we talking about something you might do, or something you're going to do, or something you did?"

She smiled and blushed. She stood up nimbly and picked up her purse from where it was lying on the table. She took out the notecard and handed it to him.

It wasn't too worn. He supposed it had spent most of the past nine years in a book. But there was a rip almost all the way through the card, and a date was written on the "Date Redeemed" line in Tracy's handwriting.

He looked at the date and did the math. "This is three days ago," he said. "Friday. You told me you had a doctor's appointment after work..."

"Yes, it was at 5," she agreed. "But I told my office it was at 2."

"So you snuck out of work early to..."

"I may have used the hall pass," she said in an even tone, but he knew her well enough to suspect her tone was hiding anxiety. "So, if it's not hypothetical, how would you feel?"

He paused, and then chuckled and leered. "Curious," he said.

He put one arm around her shoulders again, and then down her back, and the other under her legs. "Eep!" She squeaked as he hoisted her up a few inches, just enough to put her in his lap, and then rested his hand on her hip. It wasn't exactly comfortable, having her weight on his lap like that, but it was very intimate.

"So tell me all about you using the hall pass. Which I assume means, sucking and fucking some other man," he said, giving her a kiss and then leaning back to wait, trying to look more calm and in control than he was.

"Okay, go ahead. What do you want to know?" she said.

He thought about it. "How did you meet him?"

She hesitated. "Do you remember my office happy hour last Wednesday?" she asked. "Well, he's not a coworker, but he happened to see me in the bar and struck up a conversation. He hit on me, and I turned him down at the time, of course, but later I remembered the hall pass, so I figured..."

"Okay," he said, confused. At the happy hour, but not a coworker? Did her coworkers see her get the number of a complete stranger? Why didn't she mention it to me that night? But he figured he could ask about those details later; plenty of things seemed more important. "Where did you do it?"

"At the Marriott on N Street," she said. "We agreed ahead of time to meet up at the bar there, had a quick drink, and then went up to his room."

He nodded, then chose another question. "Did you suck his dick?" he asked.

She smiled. "Yeah, a little bit."

That didn't surprise him. One reason he had never pushed too hard to get kinky was that their sex life was satisfying as it was, except for when the kids weren't sleeping through the night. She was good at blowjobs and generous with them.

"A little bit? Did you do anything else?" He asked, unintentionally whispering. If she wanted to stop there, it would still be using the hall pass. But she probably wouldn't be this nervous about just a blowjob, and it wouldn't have taken three hours.

"Yes," she said.

"Did you fuck him?"

"Yes," she said, also whispering now.

Too many questions came to mind at once. "What position?" "Was it good?" "Did you use protection?" "Why then, there, him?" But none of those details seemed important at the moment. His hand slid around her hip, between her thighs, rubbing at the delta in her dress. "So, just three days ago, you had another man's dick in your pussy," he said, marveling.

"Maybe," she said. She rested her hand on his crotch and felt him through his pants. "I'd ask how you feel about it, but I think I can tell."

"Stand up for a minute," he said.

She stood. He ran his hand under her dress, up her thigh, exploring between her legs just like he'd done hundreds of times before, except completely different. He looked up from her belly and met her green eyes, her brown hair tumbling down her shoulders, as beautiful as ever despite a long, busy Monday with two children and having fucked another man.

She was breathing hard. He hoped she wasn't worried anymore. He decided to do something about that. He stood up, shucked his pants and shorts, revealing his partial erection.

Tracy arched an eyebrow at him and smiled. "Seriously? We're having a serious conversation and you just drop your pants and expect me to, what, start sucking your dick?" But if her teasing tone didn't make it clear enough that she didn't mind, she pulled up her dress a bit, dropped to her knees, and started stroking his cock, swiftly getting it fully erect.

"Well, how can I say no to that?" He asked, more calmly than he felt.

"I'm always happy to do that for my husband," she said warmly, but he couldn't help imagining a pause there, wondering how else that sentence could have gone. Before he could think about that too much, she took a breath, leaned forward without closing her mouth, and engulfed his cock, her eyes on his the whole time.

He gasped at the eroticism of the look and gesture even more than at the sensation. Blowjobs were one thing, but he knew her well enough to sense that this wasn't foreplay. She wasn't trying to get ready for sex; she was going to let him cum in her mouth. He was going to enjoy this.

But he was also still curious. "So is this how it went with him? The guy in the hotel?" He asked as he stroked her hair.

She hummed briefly and popped her lips off his erection, smacking them wetly.

"No, not at first," she said with a lazy smile, stroking his cock slowly as she spoke. "We were all over each other as soon as we were in the room, kissing, groping, getting each other's clothes off... we were in a hurry by the time we got up there. He was horny, and I think I went along with it so I didn't chicken out, you know? It was a big step!" She punctuated her words with long, hard strokes on Robbie's shaft, making him gasp, but then slowed down. Neither of them wanted to end it early.

"But once we were naked, yeah, I went down on him," she said, and with that, her mouth returned to his cock and the room was silent again for a moment except for her lips smacking and him sighing. She didn't need to say that she liked it, liked the sense of control over his pleasure; he knew.

Eventually she popped her head up again and resumed stroking him with her right hand, resting her left elbow on the couch and her chin in her left hand casually while she talked. "But I didn't want him to cum in my mouth. I'd gone through a lot to get there, I wanted to cum myself. So when he was ready... I got on the bed... and lay down and spread my legs... and then he fucked me."

She swallowed his cock again, took it all the way in to the root, bobbed her head back up and down again. He could cum like this, easily, happily, just like he had many times before except that everything was different. He was tempted to, but he still had more questions, not even sure if there were right or wrong answers, just sure he needed to know more about the session with the other man. "Did you use a condom?" He asked, simply the first question that came to mind.

She popped her mouth off him again. "Yeah, I found some left over in the closet from after Izzy was born and before I went on the Pill again," she said matter-of-factly. This time she didn't stroke his cock while she spoke. He wondered if it was a punishment for the potentially accusatory question or simply to make sure he didn't cum early.

He nodded. "Did you cum?" He asked.

She smiled and started stroking his cock again. "Twice," she said.

"Really?" He asked, trying to figure out how often that happened with him.

"Not during the sex both times," she reassured him, reading his mind. "But after, I took a shower to clean up, and he joined me, and we fooled around a bit more in there, and he fingered me a lot..."

"Ah," Robbie said, breathing hard again. "That's so fucking hot."

"It was," she agreed. She popped his cock into her mouth one more time, sucked vigorously, swirled her tongue around the head, still with her eyes on his, and then once again took his whole shaft all the way into her mouth, and bobbed up and down, stroking his shaft with her hand when it was nearly out of her mouth, focused purposefully on his pleasure until he gasped and jerked and exploded in her mouth.

"Ahhh," she gasped, pulling back, and a few final drops hit her cheeks and chin. She smiled and stood up.

"Holy shit, T," Robbie said.

"I'm glad you liked it," she said after swallowing. She stood quickly, wiped her chin with the back of her hand, and ducked out of the room.

Instead of watching an actual episode of TV, they found a clip of Seth Meyers on YouTube, just something 10 minutes long, and relaxed, holding each other.

They went to bed a little earlier than usual. By the time they got in bed and turned the lights out, Robbie found he had recovered. He spooned Tracy and found an erection growing again. She turned, smiled at him, and kissed him. Wordlessly, both because they worried about waking the children and because no words were needed, he shrugged off his pajamas. Tracy did the same. Soon they were embracing, and soon after, he was inside her.

The following day, Robbie woke up when the alarm clock went off, like usual, but he didn't have the chance to wonder what had changed or if it was all a dream; she gave a wide grin, flung her arms wide, and gave him a fierce kiss before hitting the snooze alarm and rolling back over.

He got up then and went to the bathroom. By the time the alarm went off again, he was out of the bathroom and picking his clothes out. By the time Tracy was out of the bathroom, he was downstairs making coffee. By the time it was ready, she was starting to get dressed.

He marveled at her in a spare moment, after she was dressed but before she had done her hair and makeup. He was a little jealous and nervous about the other man (Why hadn't she mentioned him earlier?), but he was far more excited about everything else. The idea that the story was made up (and the emotions convincingly acted out, and the pass prepared in advance, and the condoms removed; he'd checked while in the bathroom) was only slightly harder to believe than the idea that it was true, that she had done something so wild, and then freely told him about it.

After last night, I'm happy either way, he told himself.

That night, he might have liked to continue the discussion, to probe her memory for salacious details or discuss new possibilities, but Izzy made bedtime difficult again. Robbie and Tracy weren't in the mood for anything but relaxation after the tantrum.

So, the following morning, just after starting getting set up at the office, Robbie made a phone call.

"Hi, Roberto!" His mother said before the third ring. "Hey, Donnie, it's your baby boy!" She called to his father, apparently in another room.

"Hey, mom, dad," Robbie said, hearing them both on speakerphone.

"You're going to spoil us! You just called on Sunday, didn't you?" His mother asked.

"Yes, well, I need bail money, and my lawyer isn't taking my calls anymore..."

"Oh, come on!" His mother laughed.

"Actually, sorry, but I did kind of want to ask you for a favor," he said. "Tracy has been working hard lately, and it's been a little while since we've had a nice date, so I was hoping you could take the kids some night this weekend? Maybe Saturday?" His parents lived near Baltimore, an hour away on a weekend morning but often much longer during rush hour, so he didn't see them often during the week.

"Sure!" His father said, but he was interrupted.

"We can't, we've got to leave pretty early Sunday for Lacey's wedding," his mother disagreed.

"Lacey?" Robbie asked.

"My old coworker, remember?" His mother said. "She's finally marrying Trent, from the newspaper, you met him at the..."

"Oh, yeah, them," Robbie said. "When do you have to go?"

"The wedding's at 10, but it's in Glen Burnie, and we'd have to get ready... maybe we could take the kids if you could pick them up by 6?" His mother offered as his father grumbled in the background.

Robbie thought about whether a date night would be worth getting up the following morning early enough for that. He tried one more thing. "How about Friday night?" He asked. Getting to his parents' house wouldn't be easy on Friday, but his schedule was flexible enough for a special occasion.

Inarticulate noises as his parents discussed it. Soon his mother said, "Yeah, we aren't doing anything Saturday. Just going to Costco and some other errands, and that can wait until afternoon."

"Great! Thanks, I, we will really appreciate it," he said.

"Of course! They're great! This will be fun for us!" His mother bubbled.

They made tentative plans, he Googled some options for dates, and he called his mother back to firm the plans up.

That evening it was Tracy's turn to cook, so he was unsurprised to find her in the kitchen when he got home with the kids. He got out a box of Cheez-Its and gave the kids a snack. Once they were settled, he went to talk to Tracy.

"Do you have any plans for Friday?" he asked.

"No, why?" she said as she checked the pot on the stove; not boiling yet, apparently. She narrowed her eyes at him, no doubt thinking about last Friday and events Monday.

"I called my parents. They offered to take the kids for the night so we could have a night out," he said.

Her eyes lit up, but then narrowed. "What kind of night out are you planning on?" She asked with a suspicious glare.

He blinked and rolled his eyes. "A normal nice date of the kind we haven't had in a while. That's all," he said in a tone the children in the other room could hear. Tracy's expression softened, and Robbie continued more casually. "I've got reservations at Trattoria da Lina at 6 and I have a few ideas about movies, but I wanted to ask you about them first."

Her face glowed as she smiled. "That sounds awesome," she said, and skipped over to give him a hug.

After dinner, they discussed movies. They decided on the new Guardians of the Galaxy movie. The show time was at 8, giving them plenty of time for dinner.

When Friday came, Robbie figured he had forgotten about some holiday or someone upstairs wanted him to get laid; traffic was much better than he expected. He dropped the kids off with his parents and got home without a problem, just in time to see Tracy putting the finishing touches on her makeup. He changed into a more casual shirt, in line with her blouse and capris, and breezed back into the car.

Stopped at a light near the restaurant, he blinked and did a double take. Out the window on the other side of Tracy was a Marriott. It reminded him of what she had been doing almost exactly a week ago. She saw his glance and smiled at him.

As the light turned green, he pointed out the window past her. She looked at it and back at him. "I thought this was going to be a normal date," she asked.

He shrugged. "We aren't going there, are we? I was just... thinking. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Huh. Sure," she said skeptically.

They got to the restaurant right at 6 and were seated without a problem. In a spare moment between ordering their cocktails and deciding what to eat, Robbie stared at Tracy and smiled, struck by both her beauty and her character, the fact that she could still surprise him.

She took a sip of her water and noticed him. "What's up?" she asked.

"Just thinking," he said. He couldn't resist teasing her. "You using the straw reminded me of... you know. Monday."

She laughed. "You have a one-track mind!"

"Can you blame me? You're so good at it!"

"Flattery will get you nowhere," she said, but her mischievous grin made it hard for him to believe.

The waitress, a young, perky, blonde woman, approached with their cocktails. "Are you ready to order?" She chirped.

Robbie looked at Tracy. "The chicken alfredo looks good, but I'm not all that hungry. How big is it?" she asked.

The waitress motioned with her hands. Tracy made a face. "You know what, honey? I was thinking of getting that too. Why don't I get that, and you get a salad, and we split them?" Robbie offered. "I guess we both had big lunches. If it's not enough food, we can just get popcorn at the movie."

They agreed. "Cheers," Robbie said as soon as the waitress left and they touched their cocktail glasses.

"Thank you for planning this. It's been too long!" Tracy said.

"Yeah, really," Robbie agreed. "We had that one date back in January, right? But before that there was the pandemic, and before that, the kids were too little..."

Tracy shuddered. Robbie appreciated the sentiment behind it but also appreciated what it did to her cleavage.

He took a sip of his Manhattan and looked at her knowingly over it. "Then again, you've been out for drinks like this more recently than I have, haven't you. I guess I need to catch up."

She looked at him carefully. "Yes, I have. Are you ever going to stop talking about that?"

"Stop? We've barely started!" he retorted. "That was awesome! It's like I'm dating Spider-Man or Black Widow or someone else with a secret identity!"

She rolled her eyes, but smiled, and Robbie sensed she appreciated the idea.

"I admit it's a tiny bit hard to take, you doing that, but at the same time it's amazing," he said. "Congratulations. You can still surprise me."

She smiled without trying to hide it this time and settled herself in her seat. "Maybe you've been taking me for granted all these years," she said primly.

He arched an eyebrow at her. He didn't think he had to worry about that. He decided to brazen it out. "Maybe I should forget the movie and take you back home after dinner and show you just how much you mean to me."

She laughed out loud. "Don't worry, I know. Same here," she said. Her grin was infectious.

"Can I ask you something? Why?" He said as their grins faded.

"Why what?" She responded.

He hesitated. Either she's playing dumb, teasing me, or it really wasn't a big deal to her. He wasn't sure how to say it in the restaurant. He finally settled on, "What you told me Monday night."

"Oh, right, that." She took a bigger sip of her martini and shrugged. "I wanted to prove that I could do something crazy. Prove it to myself. When you gave me the pass years ago, I didn't have to prove that. We were both wild enough back then. Two weeks ago, with the kids and the teaching, it was hard to be sure. Now, I'm sure again."

He chuckled. "I'm glad. I appreciate the reminder myself."

Instead of answering him with words, he felt her bare foot slide up his leg under the table. He breathed hard, his eyes locked on hers as her foot slid inside his knees. She only reached a few inches up his thigh, but the message was clear.

"Who knows? It might be good for you to try something a little crazy too," she said, her eyes still locked on his as her foot rubbed his inner thigh.

Their dinners came shortly. Instead of getting a spare plate, they decided to just eat off shared plates, which involved moving plates around and a little reaching. At one point Tracy took a particularly big forkful of pasta and got some of the white creamy sauce on her cheek.

Robbie grinned and nodded at that. She blushed and wiped it away. "Oops," she said with a smile. Robbie wondered if it was truly an accident or if she had been trying to tease him all along. He was convinced it was intentional by the third time it happened.

Two can play at that game, he thought. He considered suggestively licking the sauce off a piece of chicken but thought it would look stupid. Instead he offered to fork-feed her a piece of chicken. She accepted. He let it drop down her cleavage. "Oops," he said.

Her eyes widened. She fished the chicken out, but he could still see white gloves of sauce on the top. She brushed at it furiously with her napkin. "Excuse me," she muttered as she stood and headed to the restroom. While she was gone he wondered if he had screwed things up.

When she returned, she sat down quickly. "How's it look?" she asked.

"Great!" He said, and then looked. The white glob was replaced by a wet spot right at the neckline on one side. He guessed that when it dried, there would be no sign anything had happened. "Yeah. Great."

"Nice to know," she said coolly. She sat down carefully and put her hand on the table, close to his. Then she leaned closer to him and murmured in his ear, "If you're going to ruin my clothes, maybe I should just take them off."

Robbie frowned and glanced at her. She nodded towards her hand. He put his hand over hers. She pulled her hand back, leaving something soft in his hand and picked up her fork for a nonchalant bite. He lowered his hand to his pocket and surreptitiously studied what was in it before putting it out of sight. It was black and lacy.

We're going to be fucking in the bathroom before the opening credits of the movie, he thought. For a moment he contemplated the practical problems of that, but then he had an idea he liked better.

He chuckled and shook his head, and luckily was able to get the server's attention before the gap in conversation became awkward.

"Is everything all right?" The petite woman asked.

"Yeah, but can we get a box for this and the check?" He asked. "Everything's great, but I just remembered, we need to make another stop tonight."

"Sure," she chirped.

"What's wrong?" Tracy asked.

"Nothing's wrong," he said. "I just thought of something I said earlier. I was joking, but now that I think of it, it's actually a good idea."

Tracy looked puzzled.

"I think we should go home for a little before the movie," he said as the server brought the box and check.

"Do you mean..." she trailed off.

"Why not?" He asked.

She didn't say anything.

Between rush hour diminishing and Robbie using his gas pedal more than usual they got home almost twice as fast as they got to the restaurant. They were all over each other as soon as they parked the car.

"Bedroom?" Robbie asked in between kisses as soon as the leftovers in the fridge.

"Sure, why not," Tracy gasped.

Robbie wrapped his arms around her from behind and unsnapped her pants in the kitchen before touching her blouse. He fingered her with one hand and groped her breasts with the other before bothering with the top. She stepped out of the khakis before taking the stairs. He followed her ass upstairs, and was sure that a twist of her hips was deliberate. He unbuttoned his shirt as he went and left it on the stairs.

"You didn't even bother getting this off, huh? Priorities?" Tracy asked, playing with the hem of her blouse as she did, giving him only brief glimpses of what lay beneath.

"Yeah, priorities. I want your pussy," he growled as he took the last few steps, climbed out of his pants, and grabbed her. She squealed happily. He backed her against the bed in their bedroom, kissing her while unbuttoning her blouse.

"You can have it," she said in a low voice, her eyes lighting up. A little stroking and fondling, and soon he was fully erect. She lay on the bed, spreading her legs, wrapping them around him.

He thrust into her roughly, urgently, and she hissed and nuzzled his neck and shoulder, no more foreplay needed or wanted by either of them.

He didn't tease her or bother with a sensuousness, he just focused purely on their lust and satisfying it. He needed this after just one all-too-calm coupling earlier in the week, and even more after the discussion that had led to this. Thoughts of her and what she had or hadn't done filled his mind just like he filled her pussy.

We've slept together every night for years, but she says that a week ago, she also shared a bed with a stranger, he thought as he kissed her. Or with a co-worker, or an ex, or a friend...

She broke the kiss with a moan, her excitement feeding his. "I'm going to cum in you," he intoned.

"Pull out," she gasped, opening her eyes and grinning at him wickedly. "You can cum in my mouth. You like that, right? You want to see your load between my lips?"

He chuckled as he thrust. He wondered if she was trying to make clean-up easier so they would still be in time for the movie, or do something intimate that was also a little crazy, or save her pussy for some other strange man.

"I've got a better idea," he grunted. As he felt his orgasm approaching, he pulled out and leaned back. He didn't wait for her to sit up or grab his cock. He gave himself one or two quick strokes - so excited and slick with her juices, it didn't take more than that - and exploded, spraying his cum over her belly.

"What! I said my mouth!" she gasped, flushed with her own lust and panting, with surprise and maybe other emotions.

"Yeah, I know," he said, with a big, relaxed sigh. "But doesn't that look awesome?"

She looked down at herself and tsked. "Well, maybe," she said with a pause. It was impressive. They had been teasing each other all through dinner, and he hadn't had any release since Monday. His main load had landed around her bellybutton, but droplets of his cum were splattered from her thighs all the way up to her breasts, still in its satin bra.

"I guess it's better than a wet spot on the bed," she muttered as she got up.

As he caught his breath and enjoyed watching the curves of her body move off the bed, something seemed off. Her tone of voice, the different kinds of teasing they'd had tonight...

She took a step towards the bathroom off their bedroom, obviously planning to clean up. "Honey?" he asked, grabbing her by the shoulder. "Did you cum?"

She paused. "Huh? Oh, no, but that's okay," she said, looking at him briefly and then away again. "You know I don't always. It was still nice."

He narrowed his eyes and thought. Maybe she came Monday night, maybe. Definitely not since then. But a week ago, with the other guy, twice? This won't do. She took another step towards the bathroom, but he grabbed her arm again before she took a third, and said, "You know what, sorry, but I actually don't think it is okay."

She blinked, confused. He positioned himself in front of her and dropped to his knees. She took half a step back if only out of surprise or her space being crowded. "What the -" she began, but she didn't have time for more than that before he buried his face between her legs.

"Robbie!" she gasped. He reached around her body and she fell into a sitting position on the bed. He licked and nuzzled her pussy. He shared with her an appreciation for being generous with oral sex.

"Oh! I know what you're doing! Oh!" she gasped between words. "You don't have to compete!" Her hand pressed on his shoulder, but he decided to treat it as an expression of shock rather than deliberate resistance. "I've cum with you plenty of times - oh! - and you don't have to - oh! - make me cum just because I - oh!"

"Thank you for saying that," his tone the only calm thing about them. While he spoke, he rubbed her clit with one thumb and fingered her sopping wet hole with one finger of the other hand. "But what if I want to?" he didn't give her a chance to answer between replacing his finger in her pussy with his tongue, and she answered with gasp.

"I love you and I want to make you cum more than whoever else you're with," he said, starting to finger her again. "Does that make sense?" he again immediately resumed his oral ministration, this time focusing on her clit with the tip of his tongue while his fingers plundered her snatch.

"No but - oh! I mean, I love you toooooohh! But we were going to go to - Ahhhh!"

He figured he could speak again if she said anything else. She didn't, at least not in coherent words.

By the time his jaw got tired, his cock has started to harden again. He stroked it a few times. He stood up. "Satisfied," she said groggily.

He wasn't sure if she was saying she was satisfied or asking if he was satisfied, but the answer was the same either way. "Of course not," he said, settling on the bed next to her for just a moment.

She looked down at his cock, and then up at him again. "You want to fuck me again?" she asked. "Wow!" But her tone made it clear that the surprise was a welcome one.

He didn't bother with words, just positioned himself and slid inside, easily, her pussy thoroughly swollen, dripping, and eager.

"We can skip the previews! Oh!" she said, running her hands up his back with a smile that was a mix of humor and ecstasy.

He didn't want her to waste any more breath or thought on the movie, or anything else, so he said the first thing that came to mind. "I shouldn't have waited a week for this anyway," he said. "If you're slutting it up around town, then I just have to fuck you more! Harder! Better! Than the other guy! Whoever he is!"

His sentences were punctuated with her moans.

"Next time you fuck someone else! You let me know right away! Not three days later!" he said right in her ear.

"Yes! Sorry! Right - oh! Away!" she struggled to form words.

"And I'll make you cum even more! Right away!" he grunted.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she moaned.

"A slut like you! Needs a good fucking! All the time! So I'll just have! To do my share!"

"Yes! Oh! Yes! Fuck your slut!"

At that he stopped. His heart was pounding and he was more overcome with lust than he had been in years if not ever, but he had to stop the rhythm or he'd cum there. She whimpered. He didn't give her a chance to relax, just sidled up the bed and lay down. "Mount me," he said. His worried that she'd object to the bossiness, but he once again was trying to avoid giving her a chance to think about what was going on.

She was panting, but she moved quickly enough. As soon as her hips were positioned over his, he grabbed her hips, pushed them down, and thrust up to meet her, filling her again. With open access to her back, he unsnapped her bra, threw it aside, and grabbed a breast with one hand while his other wrapped around her back. She leaned down, kissing him hungrily. He returned it but then moved his lips to her ear and nibbled the lobe.

"The next time! You fuck someone else! I want evidence!" he hissed. "I want a picture! Or to see you! Right after! With his load still on you! Or in you!"

"Oh! Anything!" she gasped. She leaned back, shifting the position of her pussy on his cock. He took advantage of her exposed breasts to grab one, groping, tugging on it, pinching the nipple. Like everything else tonight he was rougher than usual, but she just moaned louder and pinched her other nipple.

His climax was nearing again. Is this enough yet? He wondered. No. I have one more thing to say first. He put his hands on her hips and pushed her to one side, almost roughly. "We're switching again," he grunted.

She lay, limp, her legs spread, her arms wide, a blissful smile on her face, her eyes still locked with his. He lowered himself over her and entered her, missionary position again, but this time he stared into his eyes from inches away as he spoke.

"I know some other guy is going to fuck you again! Soon! In this bed!" he said, and now she was yelping with each thrust. He sped up, fucking her with abandon, no longer caring about holding back.

"Some other guy! Is going to cum! In your cunt!"

"Yes! Oh! Yes!" she moaned, her eyes still locked on his.

"And I want! To be sure! I do it! More! And! Better!"

"Yes! Oh! Fuck! Me! Best!"

He didn't bother with words any more, just kissed her, which she returned eagerly. He let his tempo increase and his cock take charge until he exploded with cum, filling her pussy with his seed just like her front.

He shuddered to a stop. She lay limp under him as both of their hearts raced. After he caught his breath, he rolled to the side and flopped down next to her.

"Wow," Tracy croaked.

"I think that was worth skipping the movie for," he said.

"Hah!" she answered. She lay there for a moment. Eventually she laboriously stood and took a few steps toward the bathroom again.

"Hey. Wait," he said, taking her arm. She looked at him, puzzled. "If you have to use the toilet, fine, go, I don't care," he said. "But don't clean up just yet, please. And don't get dressed when you get out. I want to enjoy seeing you like this all night." As he spoke, he traced his free hand from the cum-splattered lower curve of her breast, down through the dried fluids on her belly, to her red, sticky thighs, and then back up to her cheek, flushed with exertion.

She laughed and blushed even further, and copied his motion, running her hand down his body. "Okay," she said.

While she was in the bathroom, he just lay on the bed naked, propped up on his elbows, staring off into space and basking in the afterglow.

Finally, she emerged. She walked toward him, more relaxed in her nakedness than he had ever seen her, her hips swaying, but still covered with dried fluids and handprints he thought might turn into bruises. "So what do you want to do tonight? Since we probably aren't going to the movies," she said drily.

He shrugged. "We can see what's in our Netflix queue. Have something to eat. Maybe do all that again in an hour."

She laughed at that. Then she looked thoughtful. "I could eat something. Why did you suggest we split dinner, anyways?"

"Well, I thought we were going to go to the theater and have popcorn!" he argued with a smile. "Not go home and have a vigorous workout! Should I heat up the leftovers?"

She paused for a second, then said, "How about pizza?"

He smiled. That gives me an idea. "Sure," he said casually.

They went downstairs naked, gathering their clothes as they went, put them in the hamper in the closet, got out the menu of their favorite local place, and made a call. Delivery would only take 30 minutes. "Of course, you'll have to get the door, if I'm not allowed to get dressed tonight," she said.

Robbie arched an eyebrow at her. "So what? I assume the pizza guy will enjoy the show."

"You're joking," she laughed, before getting a better look at his face. "You're not joking."

Robbie rolled his eyes. "Fine, if you want to wear my shirt, you can. But that's it. If you can handle me and the guy last week, then you can handle putting on a little show."

"What about you?" she challenged him after a pause. "Are you going to put on a show too?"

He maintained his bravado from earlier. "If the pizza guy complains about you and asks to see me, then sure, I'll give him a full frontal assault. But something tells me he'll appreciate seeing a slut like you."

Her lips parted. She said nothing for a moment. Finally, she spoke. "Okay."

She went to the hamper and picked out the shirt he had worn today. "How do you want me to wear your shirt, exactly?" she asked, holding it up.

Robbie was thrilled. He'd assumed she'd button it fully and the delivery man would only get glimpses of her nether regions, what Robbie had seen on the way upstairs or less. But if she was going to ask for his input, he could make improvements. "You can button one button. One," he said.

She blew out a breath and put the shirt on. She tried two or three buttons around the middle before finding one that would probably mostly leave her breasts covered. "Hmmm?" she looked at him quizzically.

He nodded. "Beautiful," he said, deliberately not telling her if she was decent or anything pointless like that.

They opened beers and relaxed while they waited, sitting on the couch, playing games on their phones and browsing the Netflix menu but not starting anything they'd have to pause.

The doorbell rang. Robbie looked over at her, arched and eyebrow, and smiled. "Well, let's go," he said. He stood up first, but she followed, and he guided her in front of him, closer to the door. He stopped in the kitchen, just around the corner from the door.

She continued to the door with just his shirt on and her phone in one hand and opened it. "Hey, uh... hi," someone outside the door said.

"Hi!" She said brightly. A pause, then, "I think that's for us?"

"Oh. Yeah," he said.

"Don't forget to tip the man, honey," Robbie said, loud enough to be heard outside.

A pause. She came into the kitchen. "I don't have my wallet on me," she hissed at Robbie.

He shrugged and leered. "Then I guess you'll have to get creative," he said.

She pursed her lips and glared at him. Finally she stalked back around the corner to the door.

There was a pause and muffled noises. They continued for over a minute, long enough for Robbie to imagine several possibilities. She's taken the shirt off for him! It's already taken too long for her to just flash him, she could be dancing for him! Letting him feel her up! Giving him a handjob! A blowjob! But right on the front lawn?

Finally she spoke more loudly "Good night! Thanks!" she said, and then closed the door. She came back to the kitchen, the pizza box in her hand and her phone on top of it. "He accepted PayPal," Tracy announced with all the dignity she could muster.

Robbie chuckled. "That's it?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Maybe he got even more of a peek than he already had. I don't know."

Robbie laughed out loud and kissed her. He unbuttoned the shirt before he released her. She shrugged it off, set the pizza box on the counter, and opened it as he got out two plates.

They settled in to watch an episode of Sweet Tooth, still naked.

About halfway through the episode, Tracy stood up. "You mind pausing it? I'm going to get another slice. I can get you one too, if you want."

"Sure," he said without thinking about it. Then he watched her ass as she went, smiled, and got up to follow her.

She noticed him walking behind her. "Yes?" she asked, pausing with her hands on the counter by the pizza box, looking at him with a smile.

He approached until he was right behind her. Their hips met. He put his hands on her shoulders and slid them down her arms until his hands rested on top of hers. "It occurred to me, the pizza guy has your PayPal info now," he said in Tracy's ear. "He can message you any time."

"So what?" she asked, twisting enough to face him, but not struggling against the intimately vulnerable pose.

"What if he decides he wants more of a tip next time?" Robbie asked. "Or just messages you out of the blue? What would you do?"

"I guess it would depend on what the message was," she said, breathing hard.

He shifted his hips back and forth until his dick was firmly nestled between her thighs. She wiggled her hips, and soon his cock was stiffening, growing closer to her raw but welcoming holes. "What if this was the tip he wanted? The tip of his cock in your slutty cunt?"

"Jesus Christ, Robbie," she said.

"Well?" he moved his hips but nothing else, teasing her mercilessly.

"Well... then... I guess you'd have to put the kids to bed that night," she said, moving her hips in time with his, tilting them, welcoming his cock between her thighs and anywhere else he might want it.

He grabbed her hips and adjusted her angle until his cock could probe her pussy. He slid inside, maybe less lubricated by now but still very swollen from the constant attention all night. Maybe she's a little wet from the pizza guy. Maybe she enjoyed it more than she let on.

He bent her over on the counter to the side of the pizza box. "Oh! My god! Robbie! What's gotten! Into you!!" She gasped between thrusts.

I'm not sure, he thought. He couldn't remember the last time he had got hard again this quickly after sex or maintained it for so long. No doubt it was due to the flirting earlier in the evening, but he wondered how much was due to competition with the other man he didn't know anything about.

He didn't move his feet until he came and neither of them used any words, just grunts and moans, fucking right there on the kitchen counter where they made lunches and dinners. He didn't notice she got pizza sauce on her arm until later.

When he finally came, he was dizzy, spent in every way. She lay on the counter limp for a moment. "Ow," she said as she moved and the corner of the counter stopped digging into her hips.

"Sorry," he said.

She winced, but shrugged. "If I really minded, I could have said something." She smiled. "But you know, it's a good thing you let me have your shirt on when I answered the door. The evening really might have gone differently if you hadn't."

He smiled weakly. They barely had the presence of mind to put the pizza in the fridge, still in its box, before turning off the lights and staggering upstairs to bed.

The following morning, they slept in until almost 8. They silently agreed to shower together immediately. In addition to helping wash each other, they caressed each other constantly, between the legs whenever the other bent over, pushing their hips and backs together whenever they stood up straight, but neither one felt the need to progress further.

They got dressed, made coffee, had fried eggs and toast for breakfast, and got in the car to visit Robbie's parents and reclaim their children, all without exchanging more than a hundred words.

Tracy cleared her throat as a stop sign changed to green and Robbie changed lanes and prepared to get on the highway. "Can I ask you something?" she said.

"Sure, what's up?" he answered, his mind on something other than her for the first time in 18 hours, namely the road.

"Did you mean what you said last night?" she asked.

He mentally replayed what he said last night for the first time instead of what they did and winced in horror. "No," he said, putting as much confidence, thoughtfulness, and comfort as he could in that one syllable.

"I don't think you're a slut, not that there's anything wrong with that!" he began, trying to cover all bases. "You had sex with one other guy, with my permission. That's not slutty! That's... kinky! Risqué! Not slutty. That was just... dirty talk," he scoffed. "Same for the rest."

"Ah. Right. Of course," she said. A pause. Robbie changed lanes and felt like he was getting up to speed, but then Tracy spoke again. "It would be all right if you did, you know. If you did mean it."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I mean..." she paused, blushed, and waved her hands before speaking again. "Last night was so hot! All of it. Including what you... called me. What we did, what we had over the past week or whatever was good, and last night was fucking amazing! And what you called me was... part of it."

"I see," Robbie lied. "So you're saying you're okay with me calling you a slut? You want me to?"

"Sure. When we're alone. And I'm being, you know, slutty."

He chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind. Well, I'll be happy to call you a slut whenever you act slutty."

They stole a glance at each other when traffic was calm and smiled.