"I'm going to be away next week. I need you to do me a favor -- shag Rachel."
I blinked. When he called earlier to confirm our Sunday afternoon tennis game, Eli said he would ask a special favor after the match, but it's not every day that your best friend asks for such an unusual favor.
"So you want me to service your wife," I responded with a grin, taking it as a somewhat lame joke, as I packed away my racket.
Eli shrugged. "The operative word is not 'want.' I'm just being realistic. I'm going to be away the entire week. She'd never last -- has to get it every three or four days at most, if not from me, then from someone else. I prefer it be from someone I like who is bug-free, which I'm pretty sure you are," he added, with a smirk.
"You're not serious about this?" I asked, incredulous. Well, maybe not incredulous, since neither Eli nor Rachel were Puritans, but even so this was a stretch.
"And you must be getting pretty desperate yourself around now." Eli wrapped his hand around the shaft of his tennis racket and pumped it up and down.
He was right about that. It had been a week since Lila had flown to California to visit her sister. With my girlfriend gone so long I was indeed feeling the pressure.
"Yeah, I can appreciate what Rachel will soon be going through," I admitted. "but this is still an unusual request."
Eli was usually available to provide the services Rachel demanded on a regular basis. In his faculty position at a university a hundred miles away, he was able to schedule classes and other duties into long three-day work weeks, bunking at the apartment of another instructor. The rest of his week was usually passed with Rachel at their home, which was near Lila's and mine in a rural area. Occasionally, however, his presence was required on additional days of the week.
While Rachel faced sexual deprivation during his absences, Eli need not. Relief was waiting in the form of one or more attractive co-eds who needed extra help to pass his courses and to show gratitude were willing to provide a few "favors" of their own on a foldout couch in his office. Rachel knew about Eli's extra-curricular activities. Eli often joked about his "students so eager to learn," and Rachel laughed along with Lila and I. He said his stories served to "juice" Rachel, spicing up their love life rather than putting it on ice. They both preached modern attitudes and "open" relationships. But while Rachel seemed tolerant of Eli's sexual wanderings, he was less comfortable when she did the same.
"It's not so much that I object to her fucking someone," Eli said. "I just don't want her picking some dork who doesn't know a condom from a water balloon and would invite the rest of the biker gang to the party. She doesn't realize how good looking she is, and she's a bad judge of character. She might get in over her head." After a pause, he added, "Or she might call up some old boyfriend stiff who would be almost as bad as the Hell's Angels."
He was probably referring to Mike, who lived in a small town close to us. Rachel had spent a night or two hundred with him in days gone by. I did not consider Mike to be a particularly bad guy, but Eli could not stand him, probably because they had been arch rivals before Eli and Rachel married, and he suspected Mike was still an occasional factor in her life. Romantic triangles have some sharp points that produce lasting pain.
"I'm going to wear her out tonight before I leave, and don't need you to be there every night," Eli said, "but just drop over Wednesday or Thursday, when she's likely to be pretty horny again, and if she needs anything, take care of it."
I was still dubious, asking, "Who knows if Rachel even wants me to provide stud service?"
He smiled. "Oh, I don't think we have to wonder about that. You two often scope each other out, and with Lila away so long she knows you have to be pretty horny by now. She'll think it perfectly natural if you come on to her."
Admittedly, more than once there had been suggestive body language from Rachel. Her shapely boobs and butt sometimes brushed against me, often followed by a smile and full length eyeball appraisal, which stoked my ego and occasionally caused some stiffening between my legs, as was happening now just talking and thinking about this situation. Beautiful Rachel exuded sensuality, and I had fantasized about coupling with her several times.
The fantasy almost played out once at their house. Eli had gone to sleep early, while Rachel and I stayed up talking, and wound up in a brief clinch featuring passionate tongue interplay and wandering hands. But I broke away, my conscience getting the better of my libido. Eli was my best friend, I told her. She countered that because of that he would cut us some slack. But I still said goodnight and went home to Lila, who remarked afterward I was "extra hot" that night.
After I left, Rachel jumped Eli's bones to work out her own frustration. I know that because I felt bad enough at having made out with Rachel to make a confession to Eli a few days later, taking full blame while emphasizing it was a minor offense. He already knew. Rachel had told him about it. He said she was disappointed I had not provided full service, but thanked me for priming her, saying it led to great sex. He was not at all annoyed. I was relieved, and realized Rachel had been right. I did have some slack, and they really did have an open marriage.
"You certainly can't consider this favor too odious," Eli said, bringing me back to the present unusual situation.
"It won't affect our friendship if you know I hooked up with your woman?"
"I told you, I'd rather it be you than some stranger, or some asshole I don't like," Eli responded. "In fact, it might even be a turn-on. She loves to talk about her past liaisons -- in detail -- often while I'm inside her pounding away. It spices up our love life."
By this time, I was fully hard. "Okay, you sick prick. I'll drop over there, and see how it plays. If she's in heat and willing, then..." I shrugged.
"She'll be glad to see you." He smiled.
