It was Sunday afternoon and Layla was getting ready to pick up Ashlyn for a shopping date they had set up a few days prior. As she put her wavy brown medium-length hair up into a half-bun, she wondered why her close friend hadn't called or texted her over the last two days. Usually, Ashlyn would at least send her a message or give a quick call to check up on her. So her being totally off the grid seemed very abnormal.
Layla wondered what Ashlyn had been up to. Then, thinking about what she had revealed to her a few days back, Layla began to speculate. Since Ashlyn had told her about the explicit arrangement with her massage therapist, she couldn't stop thinking about it. Her head had been running in circles at the idea that her friend was having sex with an old foreign man who was hung like a horse. The mere prospect of what her friend was doing had left her in a state of devious curiosity.
Of course, Layla had to keep it a secret, Ashlyn was her best friend after all. She didn't want to rat her out or anything. But what Ashlyn was doing seemed awfully like an affair. Although she had insisted that this was a unique form of therapy from Japan and that it was purely physical, it still seemed suspicious. Then again, Layla knew absolutely nothing about Japanese culture and she had never taken Ashlyn to be the naive type. So, despite her concerns, she was willing to accept her friend's explanation at face value. The girl was happy so, in return, Layla was, in some shape or form, happy for her.
Layla was well aware of Ashlyn's sex life with her husband. Or lack thereof! Hell, she could even relate to her since her own husband, John, was frequently too busy playing golf with his friends and going on constant company business trips to pay attention to her. So Layla could understand why Ashlyn sought out these certain 'services'. But weirdly enough, it wasn't the extramarital sex that was bothering her - hell, Ashlyn deserved to get some side-action - but rather the fact that Ashlyn was doing it with an old man in his sixties! Some old creep was fucking Ashlyn, and apparently with quite the skill, too! It was something Layla was simply having a hard time wrapping her mind around.
Ashlyn had informed Layla that this old man was hung like a horse and could fuck like no tomorrow, so that offered
some
explanation. But still, it sounded extraordinary. Unbelievable, truly. But strangely enough, when she thought about her friend doing the nasty with this mysterious man, Layla felt a little jolt of arousal. She was unable to imagine what it could possibly be like, but she kept catching herself before it got too far.
Layla kept going over the details Ashlyn had shared during their lunch date together.
"There's no way an old man like that could really be like Ashlyn says, right?"
Layla wondered. She couldn't wait to hear more from her friend, but the damn woman had kept details to a minimum!
Shaking her head back into focus, Layla finished doing her hair and observed herself in the mirror. She examined her 5'6'' frame, her well-matched D-cup boobs, her perfectly curved body, and her nicely light white skin. Layla was quite the looker. She and Ashlyn had always been seen as an attractive duo. Plenty of men tried to hit on them whenever they went out together. Back in their college days, pretty much every guy on campus had taken a run at hooking up with them.
As much as Layla had appreciated the attention, she had never been the type of girl who would get with every guy she met. Ashlyn adhered to the same approach as well. As a result, they had only been with one guy each during their time in college and those were their future husbands, back when they were more lively and actually gave a damn.
Layla checked out her outfit: She was wearing a black strapless long-sleeved blouse and a pair of tight form-fitting jeans that accentuated her curves. "Damn, I look good," she muttered before exiting her en suite bathroom.
Heading downstairs, Layla gathered her purse and slipped on some shoes. As she was about to head out, she saw her husband, John, getting ready to head out as well. He was wearing some fishing gear and carrying several bags with some additional equipment.
"Um, where are you going?" Layla asked, cocking her brow.
"Oh, me? I'm just going on a fishing trip with some of the lads for a day or two," John explained.
"Of course..."
she thought rolling her eyes.
"What?? A day or two? What are you talking about? You didn't tell me you were going on a trip. What the hell?!" Layla exclaimed, bracing her hands on her hips.
"It was a last-second plan. I couldn't miss out on this!" John said, defensively.
Layla rolled her amber eyes. Like Ashlyn, her relationship with her husband had deteriorated over the years. Nowadays, he is much more focused on his own interests than he was on his beautiful wife. You could say that her sex life was better than her best friend's. But that was only by default since he would sleep with her occasionally, albeit not nearly as often as she would like. On the rare occasions that they did have sex, he would either be drunk from hanging out with his friends or just do it to get Layla off his back about it. Their sex was utterly devoid of passion or love and usually ended with John finishing early, leaving her unsatisfied and disappointed.
Then, hearing honking coming from outside their home, John urgently went to the front door. "Oh! That's them! Okay, honey! I'll see you later," he said to Layla in a rush.
Before she knew it, her husband had dashed out the front door and quickly locked it behind him. Layla pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily.
"God, whatever happened to him? He used to be full of such vigor,"
she thought miserably, missing the good ole days.
John was your average brown-haired Caucasian man. Back when they had first gotten married, he had been a lot fitter. They had gone to the gym together almost daily. But now, he had let himself go a bit and had developed this dad bod - well, dad bod if you were being generous. He'd been too focused on hanging out with his buddies, and working long hours, instead of hitting the gym and spending time with his gorgeous wife.
Hearing the car out front accelerate off into the distance, Layla frustratedly sighed and pulled out her phone to see if Ashlyn had texted her about their plans for today. Still nothing. "Ugh, this is just what I need right now," Layla irritatedly muttered to herself, staring at the empty screen.
She then decided to just call her to see what was up.
"Does she even remember what we had planned today??"
Layla wondered. She didn't want to be stood up by both her husband
and
her friend. She dialed Ashlyn's phone number and waited for her close friend to respond. She restlessly tapped her foot on the ground as her phone just kept ringing and ringing.
Hearing Ashlyn's phone go to voicemail, Layla snarled in annoyance. "Ashlyn, what the hell?! Answer your damn phone! Don't you remember we had plans?!" she angrily spat into her friend's voicemail.
Layla needed to keep her mind off things. Off of John just leaving her home alone yet again. She had really been looking forward to hanging out with Ashlyn. Spending time with her friend usually helped with whatever might be messing with her mood. Layla was willing to drag her from whatever she was so busy doing that she was failing to keep their date.
Layla waited a few minutes to see if Ashlyn would call back, but there was still nothing. She snarled in annoyance and then decided to take matters into her own hands. Ashlyn had said that she was taking the day off from work, so she must be at home or something.
Hopping into her car, Layla exited her garage and drove off to Ashlyn's house. The entire drive there, her mind was wandering.
"What is Ashlyn actually doing?"
