Wife Sneas Off for a Weeend

Like any other Friday, people in the call center where Kelly worked were wound up and ready to blow out and into the weekend. Kelly's weekend wouldn't be all that exciting. Her hubby, Clay, had left that morning for a week-long fishing trip with buddies from college. They didn't really fish. They drank, got high, played cards and regaled each other with the same stories of their days as undergrads, an annual ritual since they graduated a few years before, class of 1979.

She would have liked to have gone, if only to get away from the city for a couple of days, but she did not like Clay's buddies all that much, nor did they like her. So that pissed her off a little, that Clay got a mini-vacation and she was stuck here. Also, she was depressed, and for a couple of reasons. Nearly a month had passed since the Sunday morning when, after they had made love, she had struggled to say, "Do you realize I orgasm only about ten percent of the time we make love?"

That part of the conversation was about as short, and void of emotion, as recent sessions of their lovemaking. What was weird was how he turned the topic. He said it would be "hot" to see her with another guy while he made it with another woman.

Kelly was 22 and felt life slipping away, or turning weird with his little fantasy. With him gone for a few days at least she'd get to run some errands. Tomorrow, the most important amongst several things, was refilling the prescription for her b.c. She'd run out a couple of days before that last session of making love. She always had been careful about that 'script. She wanted to have kids. That was a topic for discussion, with her husband, that she had abandoned. He did not want to hear about it, saying they weren't yet ready. Kelly was sure he did not want kids because he'd have to give up partying.

Dory had thought the same thing. "Has he mentioned any plans for the future, like the big future you want?" When Kelly hadn't said anything, Dory continued. "You don't need him to start a family. There's guys in this call center who'd be so fucking glad to suck on those tits of yours and knock you up. You just need to divorce that guy. You need to do what you always have wanted."

Kelly had graduated from high school with Dory. They had stayed in touch while Kelly did her undergrad downstate. Dory was the one who had told Kelly about this job. The pressure could be intense, but the pay was decent, once you got the hang of things. Things could get wild, too. If she liked a guy, especially if he looked like he was on the way up, Dory had been known to give out blow jobs during the day in the old cloak room.

Dory had taken the week off, though. She and her boyfriend had decided to try for a baby. That had been convenient for Kelly because when she had complained about a month ago that she had run out, Dory told her to wait. Next day Dory gave Kelly a blister pack of pills, in the round familiar shape, pills arranged by day all around the circle. Dory took the same prescription as Kelly and said the pills otherwise would go to waste. Kelly had asked why these pills, though the same shape, were blue whereas Kelly's always were pink. Dory just shrugged and said they must be from a different manufacturer.

Kelly had run out of those and had to get a refill tomorrow. She ran an index finger over the ring on her left hand. If Dory hadn't taken today off, Kelly would have called her to see if she wanted to go out. She had wanted to take Kelly out and introduce her to some guys. Kelly was pissed off enough that the idea of screwing around made her horny.

One of the lines on the consul blinked red. That meant the Twin Cities desk was calling. Kelly smiled as she picked up the receiver and said. "Hawlings-Beecher."

"How's my pal Kelly?"

Among several friendships Kelly had struck up over the telephones in the year since she had started here, Debi, at their company's desk in St. Paul was the coolest. Dory had been the one to introduce them. Dory had even spent a weekend a couple of months before at Debi's and said it was fun up there.

Kelly and Debi had shared stories and details of their lives. Kelly knew about "the Orange Monster," Debi's funny nickname for her Gremlin, and the old house Debi had inherited from her parents. Then there was Debi's "status": in a relationship that sounded a lot more solid than Kelly's marriage. Debi was soft-spoken, but she could be pretty brassy.

Kelly couldn't remember how it had started or even where they'd gotten the idea, but for a couple of months they'd played a game over the phone. They called it "Only a slut would do that." When one called the other, the signal it was okay to talk was to say "yep" after the formal greeting their company required. Then would come a description of whatever it was that only a slut would do. They took turns, each trying to "one up" the other, and even would say "your turn." Some of the things were silly, acts that defied the laws of physics. Some were gross. Several were outrageously funny. A few, however, turned Kelly on, a fact she never admitted to Debi.

They had swapped pictures, by mail, of each other. Debi was blonde. From one photo, in which Debi wore a bikini, Kelly guessed Debi's breasts were about 34C on a short and small frame. Debi said she had "fuck me" looks.

"Yep. I'm okay," Kelly replied. "Waiting to go home. Maybe read a book. Your turn" Kelly waited. This was, after all, Debi's turn.

"On a Friday?" Debi sounded almost indignant. "Get that hubby to take you out someplace!"

Kelly was thrown off, but only for a second or two. They did not play the game every time they spoke on the phone. "Hubby's gone for a week. Fishing," Kelly explained. "What do you have planned?"

With a sigh of exasperation, Debi said, "I broke up with the guy I was seeing."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Debi had spoken of her boyfriend a lot, like they were quite an item. "So what do you have planned?"

"Seriously? I haven't had sex in over two months. I can't remember the last time I had an orgasm."

Without thinking Kelly said, "I know what you mean."

"You're kidding," Debi said. "You're gorgeous. You should not go without."

Kelly never had thought herself attractive. She stood five two with 36C breasts. Her brown hair was cut short, but not too short. During college she'd lost the weight she'd had since she was a kid. "I'm no steal."

"Why don't you come up here?" Debi suggested. "Fares are cheap right now." A couple of seconds later she said, "There. Done."

"'Done' what?" Kelly asked.

"I just booked your flight. You leave from O'Hare tomorrow morning at 9."

"What?" Kelly was a little pissed. "I can't afford that, no matter how cheap it is."

"Call it a present from me," Debi replied. "I need a buddy this weekend. A female pal. We can hang out. You can boost my spirits and I can boost yours. Besides, when else would you be able to break away for a weekend?"

Debi had a point. "Okay," Kelly agreed. She wrote down the information for the flight. She would claim her ticket at the counter at the airport. "What you got planned, anyway?"

"For real?" Debi's voice was coy. "I didn't know for sure, but now that you'll be up here, why don't we play out our game for a couple of days - play it out for real? Are you 'game' for that?"

Kelly felt herself blush. This friend, whom she'd never met, had to be joking. She decided to play along. "Sure I'm 'game'."

Debi's tone was different when she spoke again. "Cool. Do me a favor, okay?" Kelly said sure. After all, Debi was giving Kelly a free ticket, plus the "favor" probably was minor. "What's the sheerest top you got?" Kelly instantly thought of the sleeveless men's undershirt, a la Marlon Brando in a 1950s movie. She described it to Debi. "Cool. On the flight up here, wear that top, but without a bra."

Kelly heard chairs around her being pushed away from consoles. She looked up. Four o'clock and the day was over. People were done. "You're kidding. It barely holds my boobs in!"

Debi chuckled. "That's the point, silly. You wear a top like that and any guy that sees you is gonna think one thing."

Yeah, Kelly thought, only a slut would wear a top like that out in public. "I can't do that. What if somebody I know sees me?"

"That's easy. Wear a light blouse over it. Once you're on the plane, and you don't see anybody you know, take off the blouse. If you're not wearing a blouse, when you come off the plane, I'll know it's cool for me to give you a surprise. Meantime, try to remember all the things we listed. Better yet? Write them down. See ya tomorrow." Debi hung up.

Kelly nodded and mumbled to people as she went from boiler room to locker to the stop for the 22 bus. She wondered what Debi's "surprise" was. The late July day was hot and the air hung humid over downtown pavement. She looked forward to getting home and changing into shorts and a looser top.

She got off at Diversey. Their apartment was in a four-over-one a block west of Clark. Once home she lit a cigarette, popped open a beer, and grabbed things for her overnight duffel. She picked a couple of pairs of shorts and a couple of tops that showed more skin than was usual for her. When she got to the top she had described to Debi. Kelly felt her face flush even as she chuckled at how brazen she'd have to be to wear it. She pulled off the shirt she had worn all day. Next she unsnapped her bra. She picked up the dago-t. She pulled it over over head and wiggled. She looked in the mirror. Crescent moons of her boobs hung out from either side. She could see the darkness of her aureolas. She saw her nipples start to push against the cotton as she grew turned on. She took it off and laid it on the top of the dresser, along with her shortest cutoffs.

The phone rang. She looked at the clock. She picked up the receiver. "Hey, you," she said.

"You having fun there without me?" Clay asked.

"I really miss you."

"I just wanted to check in. Apparently we're going to a part of the lake tomorrow that's pretty far from civilization. I might not call you again until Monday morning."

She hadn't thought about how to explain her trip to her husband. This made it simple. "If I'm not here, don't be surprised. I told my folks I'd help them at their house." Clay was reluctant to call her when she was at her parents' home. They did not care for him and he was clueless on how to communicate with them. She told him to be careful, they exchanged "I love you" and she hung up.

She pondered the weekend to come as she went into the bathroom. She shaved her legs so she was smooth as possible. She paused, then pulled down her panties. She never had shaved around her pussy, but now, as she thought about it, not only would it be fun, it was one of the things Debi had mentioned that only a slut would do: shave her pubes, although a lot of people, Kelly had heard, did that.

She grabbed a steno pad and began the list, from what she could remember. She chuckled at, but disregarded, acts or circumstances that were absurd or impossible. She tried to list things in an ascending order. After all, a couple of times they had discussed what qualities were central to a "slut" or "sluttiness." Most of those qualities also described a woman who is independent and in control of her life and body. But there was a wanton quality in a slut's sex life that was central. Kelly began her list. A few times she crossed things out. She re-wrote. She got up and grabbed another beer. She closed her eyes and leaned back, trying to remember. Finally she had a pretty good list, including "wear clothes that expose," "fuck two guys at once," "pick up a stranger," and "orgy." Those got Kelly hot. After she'd finished her last beer, she flipped the steno pad and listed a couple of things that really got her hot: "repro sex" and "gang bang." She'd show the rest of the list to Debi, but those items were on a separate sheet. If Debi's "plans" for the weekend were only a joke, Kelly wanted to set limits, especially on things that were so extreme.

Just before she went to bed, she realized she had not filled her prescription. She swore to herself. She'd ask Debi to stop someplace. Besides, she'd make sure the guy wore a condom.

Next morning she took the "L" to the airport. As the train rattled around a turn, she glanced at the ring on her left hand. She slipped it off and slid it into a side pocket in her purse. In the terminal she walked easily. Her duffel was light and her purse was over her shoulder. Saturday mornings were pretty good for travel, she thought. The place only was half as crowded as usual. She thought she looked pretty cute. The shirt-tail of the blouse was tucked into her shorts, but the blouse unbuttoned. At the gate she guys sneak peaks at her. Once on board the plane, as she walked down the aisle, she did not see anyone she knew, but guys looked at her. At her row, she started to put her duffel under her aisle seat.

A guy in his early 20s had the window seat. "You sure you don't want me to put that in the overhead?" he asked her. She smiled and thanked him. She caught him looking down her blouse as he stowed the bag. "It's right here on this end," he told her.

After take off, as flight attendants passed out drinks and peanuts, Kelly took a deep breath. She untucked her blouse, took it off, folded it, and put it into her purse. She'd never worn her top as anything but an undershirt for a blouse. She looked down and saw her nipples jutting against the thin white cotton. She looked over and saw the guy next to the window staring at her boobs. She started to pull out a book she'd brought for the trip, but saw the steno pad. She couldn't resist and pulled out the pad.

In high school she'd never been a "looker." In college she hadn't worried much about her looks. Everyone partied. She'd met Clay near the end of school. Now she felt something missing in her life. It aroused her to think guys took notice of her.

The flight was not very long. When they had come to a stop at their gate she stood to grab her duffel before the guy in the window seat could offer to help. She saw several men turned in her direction. She gave them a show as she reached up to the overhead. She even jiggled so her tits would bounce a bit. A couple of men's stares become more focused. Also, her nipples became incredibly hard. She jostled along with everyone else, her purse over one shoulder and her duffel over the other. As she entered the terminal, she heard a voice shout "Kelly!"

Kelly grinned started toward her friend, then almost stopped. Debi's top was more like a thin piece of cloth secured around her neck and across her back with ribbons in little bows. Kelly caught only a glimpse of Debi's nipples, as protruded as her own, because Debi wrapped her arms around Kelly's neck, pulled Kelly close and kissed Kelly full on the mouth and with tongue. Before Kelly could respond, the kiss was over. Kelly was shocked, not by the kiss itself, but by her own urge to kiss Debi back, and kiss Debi back just as passionately.

Debi pulled away, smiled, grabbed Kelly's duffel and said, "Let's go. I've got a couple more surprises for you."

Kelly was certain that people stared at her and Debi as they walked through the terminal. Debi chattered about the weekend they would have. They left the terminal and entered part of a parking garage reserved for short-term parking.

When they got to "The Orange Monster," Kelly broke up laughing. The Gremlin was mostly orange, but had areas of rust and bigger areas of oxidized paint.

Debi smiled. "Some monster, huh?" As they got into the car, Debi asked, "Did you write out a list of the things we said 'only a slut' would do?" Kelly nodded and pulled out the steno pad. Debi cranked the air. "That'll take a minute," Debi explained, unnecessarily. Not looking up from Kelly's list, Debi pulled a small spiral notebook from her purse. She handed it to Kelly and said, "You got a good memory."

Kelly saw that Debi, too, had tried to list things in ascending order. The handwriting might be different, and some of the phrases were not exact matches, but overall they'd written the same things. There was writing on the back of the page, and Kelly flipped it over. Kelly's eyes widened when she saw "IR," "gang bang" and "bare" scrawled there. Something else was written, but Debi grabbed the notebook away.

"I was really drunk last night when I wrote those. Huh!" Kelly looked over. Debi smiled. "Just like you probably were really drunk when you wrote these." Debi held up the steno pad to where Kelly had written "repro sex" and "gang bang." Kelly felt a warmth flow through her. "Looks like we've got some of the same deep-down fantasies. I wasn't sure we'd do anything this weekend. I've changed my mind." The AC finally had turned cool. Debi fiddled with something in her purse. "You ever been with another woman before?"

"No," Kelly stammered.

"Good," Debi said, "neither have I. It's about a 30-minute drive to my house." Debi's hand stopped inside the purse. She'd found whatever it was. "And let's each take one of these." Debi held two pills. Debi took one and washed it down with a sip from a bottle of water that rested on the console. She handed the other pill, then the bottle of water, to Kelly.

"What is this stuff?" Kelly asked, holding the pill.

"Ever do Molly" Kelly shook her head. "Ever hear of it?" Again Kelly shook her head. "Think of acid mixed with sex."

Kelly was no stranger to acid. She popped the pill into her mouth, smiled, swallowed and chugged a little water. "What are the plans?" Kelly had a feeling the plans would be more than her and Debi hanging out the next couple of days together. After all, they were playing the game.

"I know a guy," Debi replied. "Sammy's been wanting to fuck me ever since we were in junior high, apparently. I ran into him when I stopped to buy beer last night. I told him to come over to the house today and he'd get to fuck me. I told him a girlfriend was flying in from Chicago and we are playing 'slut' this weekend."

Kelly smiled. "That's nice for you. Where does that leave me?

Debi grinned back. "You don't think I'd leave you out of things? I asked him if he had any friends." They left the highway and were on what almost seemed like a country road. "He'll be at the house about the time we get there."

The thought of being fixed up on a blind date, or more accurately a blind fuck, excited Kelly even more than she already was. Fucking a stranger was on their lists. She could feel herself getting wet. "Can I ask you something?"

Debi said "Sure, babe"

"How far are we going in 'playing slut'?"

Debi giggled. "We already started, of course. Wearing tops like these in public? Leave our tits bare for the world to see? Your nipples look as hard as mine. Trading tongues like that in public just kinda came to me."

It was Kelly's turn to giggle. "I liked that, too. How far down the lists are we going? Fucking a guy on a blind date?"

They moved along with multiple lanes of traffic, Debi said, "Having sex in front of other people. Doing two guys at once. Fucking guys from different races." She glanced over at Kelly as she turned on her signal to exit. "And now that I know deep-down what you want, fucking guys when you're not on birth control can be in play. So can a gang bang."

"Yeah, right," Kelly replied. Kelly was on the pill. That was an unalterable fact.

Debi seemed absorbed in traffic, which soon thinned out. Next came what was more country road than street.

They turned into a gravel driveway. The yard was big. The house was two-story, wooden frame and old, although neatly painted. "Here's the palatial family estate left to me by my parents. It's kinda big and needs some work, but I like it."

"I think it's adorable," Kelly said.

Sunshine hit them as they got out of the car. The air was warm and the day beautiful. Yeah, Kelly thought, Molly was like acid. And she was getting really horny. She felt a rush and figured iot was just Molly saying "hi." Debi insisted on carrying Kelly's duffel. Inside, the living room was nice. The wallpaper was old, but still intact, like the room had been dropped out of the 1950s, except for the stereo in the corner. A huge coffee table of darkened wood was in front of a sectional sofa.