Couples Dinner

To be honest with you, I was quite nervous. I tried my best to hide it from Chris who stood by my side, in front of their door, waiting for me to knock. Were I to tell him, he'd only smile that smile of his that only appeared when he thought that I was being cute. While I knew that he loved me, I always hated that smile, that look on his face. It came off as condescending and the last thing that I needed while already on pins and needles. It took forever to convince him to come with. We barely went anywhere anymore and work was his only excuse. It was always "honey, I'm exhausted, I had a really stressful day" or "sweetie, please understand that if I don't land this client, they'll never give me that promotion".

And I did understand. I really did. I knew that he did this for us. He wanted us to be comfortable, to stop worrying about money. But I felt like it's been years since we were truly happy together, since he had the energy to want me and to please me. I turned to him for a brief moment before knocking. He had lost a bit of weight, his shirt now one size too big for his frame, his once broad shoulders now slumped into an image of a much older man who'd given up on his appearance. He looked tired and lifeless and as if forced to show up. He held a lovely bouquet of yellow flowers in a clenched hand: roses, tulips and a few wisps of green. In his arm, he cradled a bottle of Pinot.

This dinner was the first chance I had gotten to dress up in months and I made the most of it. I rifled through my closet for my four inch nude stilettos and donned an emerald green evening dress with a high cut that revealed my toned thigh. Unlike Chris, I was still going to the gym every once in a while. As he drove, I absentmindedly looked out the window and wondered who exactly was I trying to impress. Was I trying to remind him that his wife was a ten? Was I trying to remind myself that I was a sexual being? Or was I doing it for Hannah?

Hannah was my boss and the woman who decided to take a chance on me, an applicant whose resume was far from stellar, one who decided to go back to college and finally get her degree at the ripe old age of 27 and who hadn't had a job since the previous administration. "I see something in you." she said after our second interview "you've got great potential". At the office, Hannah acquired quite a few nicknames and was usually considered to be 'a total bitch' by her subordinates but none of them ever thought of crossing her. They nodded along, said "yes Hannah" and did their very best to stay on her good side. They weren't really wrong. Hannah could be stern and prone to give cruel tongue lashings to those who messed up or were too slow, always somehow without justifying a call to HR. She always wore a white shirt, below-the-knee pencil skirts in muted tones and high-heel pumps that you could hear from across the hall, even on carpets. She walked with purpose and, even though pushing 50, she was full of energy and quick, determined moves. For some reason, I never attracted her ire. Instead, she treated me better than she did the others: always polite and friendly and ready to show me the ropes and help me fix my mistakes.

I'd lie if I said I didn't find her attractive. I never thought of myself as bi. I experimented a few times when young but so did many other women who never gave it another thought soon after. What I took from my brief forays with other girls was a deep appreciation for a woman's body. We are forces of nature, built to be lusted after, meant to be passionately kissed and licked and fucked. But, up until having met Hannah, my appreciation was that of an aesthete, like taking in a nice painting. When out and about with Chris, I'd catch him taking furtive glances at good-looking women. He'd try to be stealthy but I'd always catch him looking, mostly because I was doing the same. The ones who drew my attention were the ones who had what I did not: large breasts, wide hips, thick thighs descending into thin, toned calves and slim ankles. Hannah had such a carefully curated build, clearly maintained with a strict training regimen and a healthy diet. By comparison, I looked underdeveloped, like a girl still hitting puberty. I was thin and narrow and small-breasted and while I did consider myself pretty and attractive, I've always admired those features that stood out and just spelled 'sex'.

As weeks went by, it became clear that Hannah favoured me and lavished me with extra attention, which didn't help my relationships with my new colleagues. I was quickly dubbed the teacher's pet. Whenever she'd come by my desk and leaned over to show me something on the screen, I couldn't help peeking at her huge, round tits, barely contained in what I could only assume was an E-size bra under that white shirt whose buttons were barely holding it together. And for the first time in many years, I'd get flustered, a radiating heat just taking over my body while I struggled to pay attention to what she was going on about. Even then, I blamed these feelings on the fact that, to put it bluntly, I wasn't getting any at home and my body had become so starved that my female boss was now turning me on.

During this dry period in which my husband was little more than a room mate to me, I began to self-medicate by watching porn. As more and more time passed at my new job, I started to actively look for lesbian porn and, a few times, as the vibrator was getting me there, an image of Hannah would flash in my mind during climax. While it certainly did help, this was no match for the actual human touch, for having someone just grab you and throw you against the wall and filling you up, for hands hungrily searching, grabbing, kneading your skin and spreading your legs. I was left in a constant state of craving and Hannah was not helping the issue. Lately, in her attempts to show me how best to use a tool or what pathway to take for a report, she'd also touch me when leaning over, her face so close to mine. Nothing untowards, just a hand resting on my upper back or on my shoulder, but even these small gestures drove me crazy and I had to remind myself to breathe through my nose, not hyperventilate through my parted lips.

As if she wasn't intimidating enough, I was convinced that my boss was on to me and my dirty secret. I felt guilty, once for being unprofessional and a bit of a slut, even though only inside my own head and second for Chris, who didn't deserve me cheating on him, again, even though only inside my own head.

As my mind went through all of these thoughts in rapid succession, the door opened and we were greeted by what looked like the perfect couple. Graham, Hannah's husband shook hands with Chris and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder while Hannah gave me a long hug, her breasts firmly pressing into mine. I tried to keep it together.

"Welcome to our humble abode!" said Graham, though there was nothing humble about it and that became obvious from the entryway.

Following the customary 'thank yous' and 'you shouldn't haves' and 'thank you for having us', we were ushered into a large living room that, despite its size, looked lived-in and cozy. A large sofa peppered with throw-blankets sat opposite an actual fireplace. Up on the mantle, there were tens of pictures of the couple on vacation. The seaside ones vastly outnumbered the rest. As Hannah excused herself to go to the kitchen and check on dinner and Graham invited Chris to have a seat on the couch, my eyes lingered on a framed photo of the two of them in bathing suits on a beach with the ocean behind them, their glistening, tanned bodies barely covered.

"Come sit down, Lucy. She'll be back shortly."

I took my seat next to Chris and smiled. I felt overwhelmed but also giddy.

"So, Chris. What do you do for a living?" Graham asked and leaned forward intently, to better hear my husband talk about his work.

I've heard it all before, so instead I tuned out their conversation and looked around the room. The furnishings were old, but expensive, things we would probably never get to afford, no matter how much overtime my husband would put in. As my eyes settled back on Graham, I caught him giving me the briefest and subtlest of once overs, from my head to my toes. I returned the favor. He was dressed as rich guys tend to: in a pair of beige slacks and a navy blue shirt with its sleeves rolled up, with an understated but probably insanely expensive wristwatch. He couldn't have been older than 45, still had a full head of salt-and-pepper hair, slicked back and a five o'clock shadow that gave him a more rugged appearance of someone who wasn't even trying to look good but did nonetheless. The man could have been a model. Instead, he was now a partner in one of the city's biggest law firms. His rolled-up sleeves looked to stretch out over strong biceps as his exposed veiny forearms almost pulsated in my field of vision. I pictured his hand on my neck, slightly choking me, pinning me down, then wondered what the hell was wrong with me. My husband was right there, still talking about one of his contracts. I turned to him and smiled lovingly, though I knew it was a reaction stemming from my guilt. In front of Graham, Chris looked diminished, like someone who had a chronic illness, someone withering away.

"I'll go see if Hannah needs any help." I said and got up from the sofa in an effort to escape my own thoughts and not give myself away.

"Oh sure, Lucy, it's just right through there." Graham said after getting up and pointing at the way with his right hand as his left rested briefly on the small of my back. He had a sure touch. I could feel his fingers digging in just slightly.

As I entered the kitchen, I saw the flowers we had brought in a lovely vase, in the middle of the island. "Hey, Hannah, need a hand?" I offered.

"Maybe you can open that bottle of wine." As my boss took the tray out of the oven, she looked impeccable. I could spot a layer of brussel sprouts and sweet potatoes baked to perfection. "And pour us some! The glasses are in that second cupboard to the left."

I uncorked the wine while Hannah took a pan off the stove. Her blonde hair was bunched up in a tight bun with just a wisp falling down on her cheek. She wore a tight, black top that squeezed her breasts together and a pair of red wide-legged pants that hugged her ass and fell loosely to her ankles, hiding her ample thighs and slim calves.

She took her glass from my hand, drank it all down in one gulp and handed it back to me. "Pour me another." she then commanded and I felt like I was back in the office, fetching a report. It took me by surprise but also gave me a little jolt, a thrill.

This dinner invitation came as a bit of a shock too. While we got along great at work, Hannah and I were not exactly friends. We talked sometimes but we didn't really know each other. She didn't even know that I was married when she initially invited me and only me. As I asked if I could also bring my husband, she said "the more the merrier!" with an enthusiastic trill that sounded quite fake, to be honest. Looking back at it now, I'm not even sure why I brought up the fact that I was married and why I tried so hard to convince him to come. I suppose that, at some level, she scared me and having him here would bring me some comfort.

Hannah downed the second glass and I struggled to keep up. I wasn't really a habitual drinker and the two glasses already made me a bit dizzy.

"You know, I would have never really pegged you as married."

"Why is that?"

"Well, usually, married people have a way about them, a calmness, while you seem restless. Any troubles in your paradise, Lucy?"

"Just the usual, I guess. Chris has been awfully busy with work..."

"While neglecting his gorgeous wife..." Hannah then caressed my cheek with the back of her hand. "Poor little Lucy."

My mind began racing a thousand miles an hour. Could my infatuation have really been fueled by Hannah? Were those signals really there and not just in my imagination? I turned around and poured myself another glass.

"Wonderful! Don't let me drink alone!" she reacted, as if her touch was nothing out of the ordinary, just proper dinner etiquette.

"You think our husbands would like a glass also?"

"If I know Graham, he's already showing off his best whiskey." and as we peeked into the living room, the two were indeed having a drink themselves.

We all moved into the dining room and sat at the large, round table while our host brought the food. Chris seemed fascinated with Graham and kept talking shop while Graham seemed to have lost interest and sporadically nodded at Chris just to let him know that he's still listening. Finally, Hannah herself sat down across from me and we began to eat.

"You know, Chris, your wife is something of a unicorn! It's so rare for someone to learn so quickly as she did and deliver." Hannah said while pouring me another glass. Our Pinot was long gone by now and she opened another bottle of wine that seemed stronger. I was thankful that I finally got to eat something.

"Is that right? Said Chris while giving me an appreciative look.

"Oh yes. It's why I recommended her for the new product manager position in our department. I feel like she can really come into her own there. And the pay is nothing to scoff at either!" This brought out a few laughs from both Graham and my husband.

A product manager! I've only been hired not even five months ago and, if I passed the grueling interviewing process, I could have ended up earning more than my husband. I tried very hard to look back at my performance since joining the company with a semblance of objectivity. Was I really this prodigy to be flung three steps up the ladder or did Hannah just like me that much? I decided that it didn't really matter and took it all in, the possibility, a new me, truly independent. I felt powerful, which I assumed is what Hannah felt every morning when she woke up.

"Congratulations!" said Graham and raised his own glass for a toast.

"Well, it's not a done deal yet." Hannah said. "But she'll have me in her corner."

"Thank you, Hannah. This means so much to me. You have no idea." I said. I was euphoric and I couldn't tell anymore if it was due to the news I had just received or because of the wine.

"Don't mention it! You deserve it." As she talked, I suddenly felt something pressing between my legs. I flinched "Anything wrong?" asked Hannah as she cocked her head to one side.

As I looked down, I could see her bare foot resting on the edge of my seat, the tips of her toes prodding away at my mound, adjusting to go lower. Her toenails were a flawlessly pedicured bright red. I looked up. "N-no, just a shiver." Chris, who was seated to my right, was blissfully oblivious to it all.

"Lucy tells me you're somewhat of a hard worker yourself, Chris." Hannah turned her attention to my husband as her big toe pressed deeper and deeper and drove my panties between my lips. I instinctively slumped farther down in the chair and leaned into it. Beneath the table and the cloth, draped in red, her strong leg muscles were firing signals all the way to the tip of her toe, gliding ever-so-slightly forward and backward, each time pressing just a little bit more, going just a little bit deeper, until she opened me up, the front of my panties moist.

Chris began one of his long monologues while I started to warm up even more. I took another sip of wine. Should I have jumped out of my chair, grabbed my husband's hand and marched out of there, outraged? Wasn't this what I've been dreaming of for months? Pining for this woman to touch me? I tried my best to keep quiet while slowly grinding my pussy on her foot. As she slowly worked her way inside me, she kept nodding at Chris and asking questions. To my left, Graham only had one hand resting on the table top, the other hidden beneath. As he looked at Chris, he grabbed the inside of my exposed thigh and squeezed. I felt like I was a ticking time bomb, just about to explode and gush all over Hannah's leg, like a bitch in heat. I got up slowly and excused myself to go to the bathroom to freshen up.

"Just down the hall to your left." indicated Hannah.

I looked at myself in the mirror and giggled for a good minute. My cheeks were flushed from the wine and the stimulation. Suddenly, it all seemed very funny to me but the fact that my husband still insisted on talking about his damn clients while my boss had her toes inside of me was the funniest thing of them all.

"Is everything alright in there?" asked Hannah while knocking at the door. I must have lost track of time. Before I could answer, she stepped inside and closed it behind her. It didn't cross my mind to lock it. "You're such a hungry, little slut, aren't you?" she grinned. "I could smell you for months."

I took a step back, away from her.

"When's the last time that this wimp fucked you like you deserve? Probably never." She scoffed and walked slowly toward me. "Here's the thing." she explained. "You could really be a unicorn, our unicorn, mine and Graham's. We do this from time to time, inviting another woman into our bed and when I described you to him, he was thrilled. If you accept, that manager position is yours. And if we call on you again, you won't regret it. We'll show our appreciation." Hannah took my hands in hers. "Full disclosure, though? We'll use you up, have our way with you how we please. You'll be our little sex toy to defile." Before I could react, she grabbed the back of my head and kissed me. A few seconds in, I surrendered to her as our tongues intertwined in our mouths. She smelled of Black Orchid and her mouth tasted of strong, red wine. She was intoxicating and I could barely stand on my own two feet. As she saw me give in, she grabbed a handful of my hair, pulled down and licked my neck in a long, continuous stride up to my chin. "Take a moment to think it over. If you agree to it, when you come back to the table, just take another sip of wine from your glass. We'll take that as a yes and figure out a way around your husband." She stepped out and left me to my thoughts. "She's fine! Just had a little too much to drink." I could hear her shout from the hallway.

I paced around this beautifully tiled bathroom that was as large as our bedroom back home, weighing the pros and cons in my mind. For a brief moment, I felt sympathy and a pang of sadness for Chris but then I remembered all of those times when he rejected me, all of those times when he was so absorbed by his job that I might as well have not existed, times like tonight. I looked at myself in the mirror again. I was a knockout. Even when dressed for work I turned heads down the street. I was a woman and I needed him to want me. And I gave him all the chances in the world.

I came back to the table and, before sitting back down, took a sip of wine from my glass while looking at Hannah. She gave me a knowing smile.

"Don't you think you had enough for tonight, honey?" said Chris.

"Oh, let her enjoy herself. It's a celebration!" Graham chimed in.

I felt ready for a fight, I wanted to put my husband in his place right then and there. Instead, I sat down and had more wine. I knew something he didn't, and my satisfaction was soon to come. Not five minutes later, my husband's phone rang.

"Yes, sir. No... it's just that I was... no, of course. This is a priority. You'll have these first thing in the morning." he mumbled and hung up. "Turns out it's gonna be a long night for me. Honey? Shall we go?"

"Chris! Tomorrow is Sunday!" I said, outraged, thinking back at all the ruined weekend plans, all of those times when we had to cancel meeting our friends, going back home to our folks.

"Tell that to Ryan. He'll have me for breakfast if I don't deliver."

I began visibly pouting, like a child. By now I had drunk so much wine that I could barely censor myself. Pandora's Box had been opened while we sat at this table and there was no going back. I wanted him to just disappear in a cloud of smoke. Hannah and Graham looked at each other. I could see the bulb light up in their heads. This was fortunate, serendipitous. Providence.

"Chris, if you don't mind, we can drive Lucy back later, it's no bother! There's no reason that her fun has to end also." Graham offered with a sly, knowing smile.

"Well, I suppose, if it's not an imposition on you."

"Not at all!"

"I'll see you out, Chris. Thank you so much for coming!" said Hannah.

Chris gave me a chaste kiss on the lips, jokingly said "you behave now!", shook Graham's hand, wished him a "good night" and headed for the entryway with Hannah following.

I was left alone with Graham, With Chris still talking to Hannah in the entryway, he stood up and began to unbutton his slacks. He whispered in my ear.

"I want you on your knees in front of me. Take off your pretty dress but leave the heels on. Now."

"Thank you for inviting us. I'm glad that Lucy has found a mentor in you." I could faintly hear my husband saying from down the hallway.

As if in a trance, I slipped out of my emerald green dress and got on my knees. I felt exposed, vulnerable, not only to Graham, but also to Chris, who could decide to return at any moment, to have one last thing to tell me. I just hoped that he did not forget his phone here. The thought of him mere feet away, right as sunshine, unknowing, like a fool, made me so wet. I glanced up at Graham, moaned and licked my lips. He let his slacks drop down to his ankles, slowly uncovering the thickest, veiniest cock I've ever seen, stemming from a freshly shaved pubis. As I stared, slackjawed, it began to harden and tilt up, towards my open mouth. I had to have it. I needed it down my throat, to feel it grow from within, I craved it, for Graham to fuck my mouth with abandon. Saliva built up under my tongue as if my body knew, as if my mouth was a wet, drenched pussy. I cupped Graham's balls and slid my tongue along the shaft, then took it in, slowly, gradually, one inch at a time. I started sucking, my lips parted, drool dripping down his balls to the Persian rug below, my fingers gripping his ass. I worked my way to the root and held it inside. Graham placed a hand on the top of my head and groaned and for a second I wondered if my husband had already left. I couldn't breathe, tears rolled down my face, and just as I was about to pass out, Graham pulled his cock out of my mouth and slapped me hard across the face with it.

"Oh, Hannah was right, you sure do deliver." Graham then grabbed my head and rammed his cock down my throat. My arms fell to my sides, as if I were a broken doll. Even with my ears covered by his strong hands, I could hear the muffled, rhythmic sounds of him fucking my face. "You'll be our little sex toy to demean and defile." is what Hannah had said to me in the bathroom and I was loving every second of it.

"Graham! Are you crazy?! He wasn't even out the door yet!" I heard Hannah shout from my left.

"She didn't seem to mind," he answered between slow grunts.

I heard her heels closer and closer as she came up behind me. She stood up and pressed her body to the back of my head. They kissed tenderly while he kept thrusting. I was pinned between them.

I turned my eyes upward. They kept making out while I was suffocating below, my throat full of hard cock. When they finally stopped, Hannah looked down at me with a grin. She then knelt behind me and grabbed a handful of my hair and pushed and pulled and pushed and pulled while Graham kept thrusting himself inside of my mouth. They were relentless.

"Suck it!" she hissed in my ear and I could hear both of them laugh. She then unclasped my bra and cupped my breasts and squeezed my nipples so hard that I let out a muffled yelp. "You like it, don't you?" All I could do was moan softly as the sound squeezed by Graham's cock and out the sides of my open mouth.

I felt weak and strong at the same time. They were in control, using my body for their pleasure, prodding, squeezing, pulling, they had me in a vice from which I had no escape. I was powerless, my mind blank, drunk on Hannah's words, on the wine, on Graham's cock stuffing my mouth, the trip here a distant memory, my husband barely an afterthought, as if in minutes, I had stepped into another life in which these beautiful people wanted me to satisfy them, wanted my body to touch and explore and dirty with their cravings. I felt seen in a way that I haven't been seen before, desired and lusted after, powerful and insatiable.

When Graham stopped and pulled a chair in front of the couch, Hannah led me by my hair and threw me on the soft cushions. She then gently peeled off my soaked panties and shoved them in my mouth. As I waited, splayed and ready for whatever came next, she took off her top and her pants, revealing her large, perky breasts and a pair of pearl lace panties, with the string of beads wedged between her soft, pink, shaved lips. She knelt in front of me, swept her stray blonde lock behind her ear and kissed me gently down there. Her tongue lashed on my clit and traveled downwards, burrowing inside to taste me and at that moment in time, I, gagged with my own panties and she with her long, playful tongue, were tasting the same juices. She took my already throbbing clit between her lips and suckled it while looking straight into my eyes. As my moans got louder, she'd switch it up, teasing me, denying my release. Graham watched us from the chair, a glass of whiskey in one hand and his hard cock in the other. He had stripped naked and looked like a well-endowed Greek statue with his large pecs and round shoulders and washboard abs.

"She's all yours." said Hannah.

Graham knelt on the couch and placed my legs around his neck. He entered me slowly, carefully, aware of the damage he could do. By this point, I was so turned on I could have sat on a fire hydrant.

"Just fuck me already." I told him.

They looked at each other, amused. He pushed himself inside of me as my body shivered with pure pleasure. I welcomed him without issues and, as he began to fuck me harder, I pierced his chest with my nails. I could read the lust in his eyes as his hand grabbed my neck and squeezed, just like I day-dreamed about just hours before. I let out a loud, coarse moan. Hannah came by my side and caressed my hair, as if I were the most delicate thing in the world.

While her husband pumped away, harder and faster, she climbed on top of me, straddled my shoulders, pulled her round ass cheeks apart and sat on my face. "Eat it!" is all I heard her say before all I could see was that string of pearls descending on my open mouth, tongue out, ready to start licking. I received pleasure and gave pleasure at the same time. I ate her ass like a drooling, possessed mess, almost drowning in my own spit, gasping for air when she allowed me to. I worshipped her like she deserved, this curvy woman built for sex who chose me to please her.

By midnight, we were still going, like animals: bent over the dinner table, touching myself while husband and wife fucked like rabbits on the floor, manhandled and pinned against the wall, in Graham's arms, his thick cock ravaging me sore. I had long sweated out the last drop of wine from my system but remained drunk nonetheless.

I ignored the first few calls while prone on the carpet, with Graham on top of me, smothering my body with his, when Hannah smiled and said "maybe you should answer it!" Before I could refuse, she slid the green icon up and placed the phone to my ear.

"Honey, It's getting late, are you on your way with Graham?"

The two could barely contain their laughter.

"Hey, not yet, no, we're about to leave soon. I'm sorry, I hadn't checked the time, it just flew by." I did my best to control my panting and speak as naturally as if I was sitting somewhere, just chatting away.

"Alright, well, did you have fun?"

"Oh, yes, I still am."

"Great, I'll see you home, sweetie. I'll be up, these files won't write themselves. Love you!"

"Love you too!" I hung up as both Hannah and Graham mumbled in unison about the files. Who the fuck did I turn into? I felt like a pornstar in the seedy script of an old pervert. I thought these things only happen in the movies yet here I was, getting railed by my boss's husband while talking on the phone with mine. Just thinking about it made me climax again, harder than before. My legs began shaking and my entire body turned into a shivering furnace of pleasure. My heart was racing and I felt like I would faint right there on that carpet.

Graham felt me tighten my grip around him, pulled out and came on Hannah's chest. Without being told to, I licked every last drop of cum off her tits and shared it with her while we kissed, the bitter taste engulfing our tongues. The three of us then collapsed on the carpet, like athletes who had just ran a long marathon and somehow came in first.

"I guess there's no time for cuddling." Hannah said. "You did very well, Lucy. I knew you had great potential. Shall we do this again, soon? Perhaps without your old ball and chain next time though. You don't have to answer now."

"Definitely, the sooner the better." I knew what I wanted. I wanted them to use me again and again.

She smiled, satisfied. "Shower? You already know where the bathroom is."

"Mno, I think I'll just go wash this make-up off."

She laughed a high-pitched laugh. "You think he won't be able to tell?"

"He's oblivious."

It was a long drive from the city to the suburbs, back to the modest two-bedroom I and Chris were to pay mortgage on for decades to follow. Graham was silent, focused on the road, driving the speed limit. My evening dress, still pristine and untainted, clung to my sweaty body. I was twenty minutes away from my dickless husband and his contracts and files and clients and demanding, unreasonable boss. Twenty minutes away from him ignoring me and my needs. I wanted more to keep me until next time.

I placed my hand on Graham's thigh. "Do you think she'll mind if I give you a blowjob? Would you mind?"

He looked back at me with raised eyebrows and then fumbled for the zipper of his slacks. I unbuckled my seatbelt and took him in my mouth again, gentler this time, getting my lips around that coke can of a cock. As I bobbed my head up and down on his manhood, he kept one hand on the wheel and one in my hair. I felt him harden, hitting the top of my mouth like a battering ram. He came in minutes, a thick load hit the back of my throat. I swallowed it and licked my lips. "Now you can kiss your hubby goodnight." he said as we shared a conspiratorial look and I heard myself giggling at the thought. Whoever this Lucy was, she was not the one who knocked at Hannah and Graham's door hours ago. She was something else and I felt ready to fully embrace her.