Hall Pass Ch. 54 -- Lancelot and Little Sister
By: LewdLuke
Her knees slipped out from under her and we collapsed to lie flat on the bed. I was still inside her. I continued to fuck her as long as my erection lasted. She purred and whimpered. I let the weight of my body rest on her as she instructed. We were very close emotionally. We enjoyed the euphoria that came with the afterglow of our lust. I thought, "What a beautiful end to a wonderful weekend. I will never get enough of her."
We slept.
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Mondays are not my favorite days. With Linda's help, I did get up early enough to do my run and make it to work on time. Before I left, I told Linda to call Michelin or Bobby Wilkinson. We needed to start making plans for our May visit with them.
I drove to the plant. Robin had coffee waiting for me and Alice came into my office for our normal, "get the day started," meeting.
The first thing I noticed was how Alice was dressed. She was prim, proper and correct for her position in our organization. She was in fact, second in command. Her dress, as usual, was a bit too conservative for my taste. She was wearing a very nice skirt and jacket suit. Her blouse was closed tightly around her neck. She wore a feminine looking ribbon tie but it was a tie no less. I knew that she was wearing all the proper undergarments. I also knew that she wouldn't so much as remove the jacket unless she had to spend an extended amount of time in the warehouse where there was no A/C.
I remembered her look at the ball game on the previous Saturday. She hadn't reached thirty years yet. She had been wearing tight shorts and a light blouse tied at her midriff. Her belly button and tight abs had been visible. The tight shorts accented the well-defined muscles in her shapely legs and her cute bottom. I remembered. I had fucked her more than once but it was only in my dreams. I laughed and thought to myself, "She is off-limits, Luke. Her husband is a lucky man."
Our meeting only lasted about half an hour. She had me sign two checks that were bigger than her self-imposed limit. My workload was light and I was instructed to do some politicking. I went over the pertinent parts of two new contracts. Our lawyer had already signed off on them and each of our plant managers had read them and they had made a few comments in the margins of their copies.
Lunchtime came and I went to the main cafeteria and had a sandwich with the foundry manager. He said that he had received ingots of the new metal alloy that we were going to use in our upcoming experiment. He told me that we only had about half of what we had ordered. He said that if we were going to have a supply problem it would be a deal-breaker as far as he was concerned. He couldn't afford to have his schedule of operations interrupted. It concerned me too. I promised to check into it right away.
I returned to my office and called my supplier's rep. for the new metal. He informed me that we had just received the first half of a split shipment made necessary by weight concerns. He said that he was sure we would receive the rest of our order in a day or two and that he would see that we never had a supply problem. I had dealt with this man for years. I knew that I could trust his word.
I kicked back with a Coke and spent a few minutes thinking about where I could drum up some new business. Springtime was here. It was time to load the boat with work for the next winter months.
My mind wandered into personal things. I thought about how much I had enjoyed the last weekend. After a few minutes, I decided that I needed to talk to Kay Linden. I had decided that I definitely was going to apply the brakes on our lifestyle. I knew that Linda wasn't ready to quit swinging altogether and truthfully, I wasn't either. I called Kay and made a lunch date with her for the following Wednesday. I was confident that she could help. I wanted to talk about Linda's bucket list too.
Later in the afternoon, my intercom buzzed and Robin said that she had a Mrs. Wilkinson on the line. My heart thumped in my chest and a butterfly fluttered in my stomach. I said, "Put her through, please."
I heard the connection being made and said, "Hello, Pretty Lady, is that rough old Scottish warrior that you are married to listening in on us."
She said, "No," and then asked, "Who is listening on your end."
Michelin and I are lovers. We are very close because we share some beautiful memories. The openness we share is a natural development of that closeness. She likes to talk ugly with me because her husband doesn't allow her to use dirty words at all. I said, "I am alone and that is good because I want to talk to you about the blow job that you owe me."
She replied, "I'm anxious to pay that debt." She giggled. Her Highlander accent even shows up in her giggles. The giggle sounded a bit put on but the monster moved anyway.
She continued, "Linda called me earlier. She wanted to arrange for your visit next month. I told her that we probably needed to put it off."
I broke in and asked, "Why would we put it off?"
She answered, "I told Linda that Bobby and I are trying to get pregnant again. I told her that Bobby would not want me sleeping with you while that is happening." She continued, "That is true but there is more to it that I didn't tell her. I want to tell you and you can tell Linda if you think she should know."
I said, "Congratulations on the pregnancy part but tell me the rest of the story. I sense something bad in the wind."
I heard her whimper and sniffle. She said, "Bobby is ill, Luke." After a moment, she continued, "He has lung cancer and he is going through chemotherapy."
I said, "Oh, Michelin." I had to sit back and take a few seconds. Finally, I said, "I am so sorry." Then I asked, "What is the prognosis?"
She controlled her sniffles and said, "The doctors have given us some hope that this treatment might put it into remission. If not, the tumor is operable but Bobby will lose at least the lower lobe of his right lung."
I said, "I am so sorry, Michelin. I wish I could hold you."
She replied, "I would like that."
I said, "If I tell Linda, She will want me to take her to him right away."
She replied, "In that case, you probably shouldn't tell her. He has lost most of his hair. That includes the fluffy red mustache that he was so proud of. He has also lost a lot of weight and the treatments make him unable to get out of bed for three or four days at a time. One of the doctors said that he would never be the robust man that he was before." She paused and then continued, "I know that he doesn't want Linda to see him in this condition. If his treatment works, he will get his hair back and his overall health will improve some. Maybe you could bring her to see him then."
I said, "I will think about it hard before I say anything to her."
She said, "I know you will do the right thing." She hesitated then said, "There is one other item Linda and I talked about."
I asked, "What?"
Michelin said, "Linda said that she wanted to have a play date with Eric Littleton. She asked me to relieve you of your obligation not to sleep with Anne. She said that she needed some enticement for you to make a meeting possible.
Michelin actually found a place to giggle here. She said, "Linda told me that you promised me you wouldn't and you promised Anne that you would. Silly monster, I know your big head wouldn't have done that. I told her that I would call you and let you off the hook personally."
I replied, "I'm so sorry, Michelin. Linda is talking about fun and games while you are suffering so."
She said, "It's okay, Luke. She doesn't know." She went on, "It really is all right if you go play with Anne. I was wrong to make you promise something like that anyway. Just don't make a big deal out of it. In fact, don't tell me about it and tell Linda not to tell Bobby. I'll ask if I need to know. I should just be grateful for the times when we can be together."
I replied, "This a bad time, Sweetheart, but know this. I'm not going to stop wanting to be with you. Maybe we can talk about it at a better time."
She answered, "We will, Luke. I wish you could come to hold me right now and I do plan to pay my debt."
It got a little mushy from there and then downright nasty for a few minutes. Finally, we said our good-byes and hung up.
I went to the bar and made myself a double, two shots of Crown Royal over ice. I took one long pull straight from the bottle before I resealed it. I sat back in my chair and took a sip. I pushed the button on my intercom and told Robin that I needed to see Alice. Alice opened the door and walked into my office a minute later. She was still wearing her jacket.
I showed her my drink and said, "My workday is over. Yours can be too if you want one of these." She shook her head, as I knew she would. I said, "Michelin Wilkinson just called me. She is the sweeter half of the couple that Linda and I have visited in Scotland. I said, "Michelin's husband, Bobby, has cancer. He was my son's soccer coach several years ago. He and Linda are very good friends."
I paused for a moment and then asked, "Should I tell Linda? It will upset her terribly." I had already decided I wouldn't tell her.
Alice asked, "How good of friends are they?"
I answered, "The four of us are very close. They could be family."
Alice made me tell her everything I knew about Bobby's condition. She said, "I wouldn't tell Linda yet. She can't do anything and she will suffer. You should wait until after his course of treatment is over. Maybe, if it works, you will at least have some good news to mix with the bad."
I rolled it over in my mind. It was good advice. I said, "Thank you, Alice. I had already come to that conclusion. I needed you to make me believe I was right."
She smiled and said, "Great minds, Boss."
I told her I would be leaving and asked if I had to do anything first.
She said, "No, I have everything covered. You go on home." She excused herself.
I sat quietly in my chair while I leisurely finished my drink. The situation began to feel surreal to me. I thought, "April Fool's Day." I looked down at my Calendar. Today was the second. April Fool's Day was yesterday. I had spent the day with Linda. We hadn't even thought about it. Then I realized that Michelin would never pull a stunt like that anyway. I was subconsciously looking for a way not to believe but then I accepted the fact. Bobby actually was sick.
I had just suddenly put at least four shots of good whiskey on an almost empty stomach. I was glowing a little on the inside. Uncle Artair would kick my ass for driving his car in this condition. I sat down and buckled my seatbelt in the little blue Triumph. I decided not to tell him and brought the engine to life. I concentrated and made myself drive carefully. I only exceeded the speed limit by a little bit. The car took my mind off Bobby and let me rest mentally for the few minutes it took for me to drive home.