Abby Rode Too Hard

"Is he...?" I asked.

"Abby, let's go. We've got to get you out of here," Jerry said, pulling on his own clothes.

"Don't worry, Abby," Little John said. "We've got this. If that's how he had to go, I can't think of a better way."

"But..." I started.

"Abby, let's go," Jerry insisted, escorting me out of the bar to a waiting Michael.

Michael had a nice car. His muscle car was in near-perfect condition aside from a few paint chips here and there, with everything original making it worth more (at least to him).

I felt bad for soiling the vinyl passenger seat with a lot of Jim's come and a little of my shit, but I didn't have time to clean myself up like I usually did. Michael assured me it would come out without a problem.

"Are you okay?" Michael asked.

"Other than being a little freaked out from just fucking someone to death?" I said. "Sure. What do you think?"

"I think we need to get you cleaned up," Michael said. "Then, we'll check back with Little John."

Michael's mother, Jean, was a little surprised to see us at 1am, but Michael told her everything that had happened while I showered. I changed back into my regular clothes from the paper bag while Jean washed my cheerleading outfit.

"Coffee?" Jean asked.

"Sure," I said, still trying to comprehend the events of the evening.

Michael had stepped out to make a few phone calls, and I wondered if he had left me as he had been gone for almost an hour. I was about to ask Jean for a ride to the adult book and video store - so I could get my minivan - when Michael stepped back inside.

"He's okay," Michael said with a sigh of relief.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Just what it looked like... a heart attack," Michael said. "Luckily, there was a doctor in the house. They did CPR, brought him back, and got the place cleaned up enough to not raise too many flags when the paramedics showed up."

"Well, Abby," Jean smiled over her cup of coffee. "You've got Linda and me beat, there. We never fucked anyone so hard that we gave them a heart attack." She sipped her coffee. "Came close a few times, though."

"Thank goodness!" I said. "Holy shit... I don't know what if... what if..."

"He's okay," Michael said, somewhat sternly. "It happens."

"It does?" I asked. "That poor man."

"That poor man just got the fuck of his life, but he also should have known better," Michael said. "Little John should have known better."

"Well, the important thing is the poor man looks like he'll live," Jean said. "Abby, do you want to stay here until morning? I can take you to get your car when you wake up." Michael gave me a look that said I needed to go.

"No, thanks," I said. "I'll be all right. I'll come back for the outfit later in the week. Michael can take me to my car as soon as I finish my coffee. Right, Michael?"

Michael nodded, pulling out his phone and stepping outside again.

Before I stepped out of Michael's car, I adjusted the towel I had been sitting on, and asked, "Will I be going back there any time soon?"

"I think its time we give Little John and the boys a break," Michael said. He could see by the look on my face that I was disappointed.

"Do you mind if I do something with Mort, alone?" I asked.

"You can do whatever you want, Abby. You don't need my permission. I just arrange the group parties, remember?" Michael said.

"Would you happen to have his number?" I asked.

Ron was surprised when I spent the next few weekends at home with him and the kids.

"No friends needing help?" Ron asked.

"Not tonight," I said, three Fridays in a row.

It wasn't until a month later that I received a call from an unrecognized number.

Mort finally returned my call.

"Ron, it looks like a friend is going to need a lot of help later this month, and I might be gone for a few days," I said, swallowing his second orgasm of the morning. "Think you can manage without me for a few days?"

The two hours of sex with my husband that followed told me he could.