Holding Out For a Hall Pass

For anyone keeping score, this is my third submission to LW. I thought I'd pick a more "traditional" theme for this one. Here is my version of a common premise I do find interesting and worth writing about. Common premises are common premises for a reason. This story was inspired by the person who inspired the character of Kayla.

Have you ever met a person that has given you a look that said, "I'm going to fuck your wife?"

I have. I got it at an office party from my one of my wife's coworkers. I'll say right off the bat, I find that sort of behavior to be rude, but also helpful. It's nice when assholes let you know they're assholes upfront, it saves a lot of guesswork. Had Rick Combs III been at all circumspect, events might have unfolded in a very different way.

Now, he didn't do it where she could see it. When he knew her eyes were on him, he was an absolute gentleman. It was one time he made eye contact while her head was turned, that I saw that look. Women always say that we don't know how they think. I accept that. What so many women find equally hard to accept, is that we men know how men think. His look said to me, "Gabe, I'm going to fuck your wife and you don't even know it, you poor tard."

Rick Combs was older, ten years older in fact, at the age of 38. I'll admit, he was a good looking guy, in a certain kind of way. It always seemed to me like he spent more time prepping in front of the mirror than most women did, and spent more on a single haircut than I'd spend in a year. His personality was always friendly, but it didn't strike me as genuine. It was like the smile from a public figure when cameras are present.

The day "The Look" happened, I really had no worries. Rick had just been transferred to the Chicago office. Men lusting after Kayla was not an uncommon occurrence. If anyone else had noticed and pressed me for a comment, I would have laughed and said, "Good luck." When you have complete trust in your relationship, it's easy to blow off the douche canoes.

The only comment I made to Kayla was, "I think that guy has the hots for you."

Her response was, "He has the hots for every woman."

I left it at that. Why wouldn't I? She clearly saw him the same way I did. How did I know that?

Kayla and I have been together five years. Three of those have been as husband and wife. Almost from the moment we met, we couldn't get enough of each other. We were so much a couple, we were referred to as "Gayla." That seemed so perfect, as every day together seemed like a "gala" indeed.

Kayla was always my type. Let's get the physical part out of the way first. I'm not a leg man, ass man, or a tit man. I'm a height man. I'm attracted to tall women. I'm an even 6 footer. Kayla is just an inch shorter. Her height combined with her dark hair and those other recently aforementioned attributes, make heads turn. I married an amazon.

Now me, I'm not exactly the Warrior King in terms of physical appearance. I'm healthy and have a bit of tone, despite an admitted indulgence in Giordano's deep-dish pizza on at least a weekly basis. It's one of the perqs of living in Chicago. I won't be mistaken naked for Chris Hemsworth, but it's not exactly Beauty and the Beast here. I hold my own in the looks department, but if I had to rate us objectively, I'm a 7 and she's an 8. If tall women are your thing, she's a 9. I know I'm supposed to say something like, "She's a 10 in my eyes." That would be lying. I enjoy watching reruns of Xena, and not for the incredible writing, acting or production values.

Now that that part is out of the way, let's get to the other stuff. Kayla loves sex, she's uninhibited talking about it, watching it on film, doing it. I don't mean she's always in the mood, but when she is she clearly expresses it, just like she expresses it when she isn't. She's the only woman I have ever been with who laughed during sex at the same moment I did. I'd put off a partner or two by laughing during sex. As I view the world, when a cat jumps on a bed while you're just getting into it and starts looking for a place to claim for a nap as though it belongs there, that's hilarious to me.

She's also loyal in public, and not afraid to let me have it in private. If any of her friends ever made even an innocent joke at my expense, she made it clear where her loyalties lay. Every time. That's the normal stuff though. She had that one special characteristic that I also shared, the one that meant we were destined to be together.

Kayla and I both have a love of rules, specifically as applied to games. Kayla is worse than I am. Once the rules are determined, she demands stringent observance. Rules in games are her thing. There are couples that don't like to play with us because Kayla is a "Rule Nazi." We are also both competitive and like to win. I suppose it's why the rules are so important. You either win fair and square or you're just a cheater.

Kayla's love of rules doesn't seem to factor into every other aspect of her life. She has given me the occasional white lie over the years. I've done the same. She's broken the speed limit. I have as well, although not as badly. Kayla is one of those that has a lead foot. Her obsession with following the rules, really seems primarily confined to games. I say "primarily," because we did write our own wedding vows. I know she values those as seriously as I do. I won't bore you by sharing them with you, but I'll cut to the chase and say that fidelity was included. If either of us were going to modify "the rules" we'd agreed to when we got married, we'd both have to agree to any proposed changes.

This love of rules is one of the things that attracted her to me. I pointed out while playing a game of Monopoly that the "Free Parking" space was not some kind of lottery. She was certain that it was some kind of optional rule. This led to a heated discussion when I called her on it. Then we read the rules and she agreed with me. At that moment, I think I fell in love.

After that, we started dating and were exclusive within a month. One of her own personal rules, was the third date is the sex date. I'd like to say she broke it for me because she was so overcome with passion and my magnificence, but that wasn't the case. We had sex on the third date. We also had games without boards, dice, or a disc.

One was "the Celebrity Game." Like many couples, we had our "list" of people that the other person could fuck, should the unlikely event arise. Mine were Gal Gadot, Jennifer Lawrence and Lynda Carter. Hers consisted of, Chris Hemsworth, Neil Degrasse Tyson, and Michael B. Jordan. We did have fun with the list. Either of us could have also three vetoes on certain people.

My vetoes were Jason Momoa, Chris Pratt, and Gal Gadot.

Hers were Sandra Bullock, Shakira and Selena Gomez.

We also were allowed to drop off a name and replace it with another, to either our list or our vetoes. Having conversations about our choices and vetoes was fun for both of us. We substituted names a lot, just to keep the game going.

The best part, was discussing our reasons. A typical conversation would involve both of us playfully reacting to the other person's choice and vetoes. Oddly, our discussions were more centered around the vetoes than the approved list. I'll give her reaction to mine first. She didn't seem to care about Jason Momoa, but the other two intrigued her.

"Why Chris Pratt?"

"He's funny, but humor is my thing. If you went for a dude because of humor it would crush me. Why did you pick Sandra Bullock? She's crazy old. I'm pretty sure that's not going to happen."

"She's not sexy, but she's the girl next door. I just don't like the way you see her old movies. I'd be happier if you got hard watching a porno with a woman with fake tits like Stormy Daniels, than see the look in your eyes when you watch her. Why is Gal Gadot on the list? I'm not a lesbian."

"I know that, but Gal Gadot is so hot I want to take her off the list. If I can't have her, you can't either. It would destroy me if she seduced you and you liked it. Why Shakira?"

"She has no tits, but you like her. And you like tits. If you like a woman with no tits, that's a threat. Definitely on the list."

"Selena Gomez?"

"Seriously? That woman has no talent. The fact she's famous offends me, no way she gets to fuck my man."

I agreed with her on Selena Gomez. I honestly had no interest, as far as I was concerned, she was a child actor. I guess that was her version of my choice of Gal Gadot.

Our evenings were usually typical. We got home around the same time, except for Tuesday. Tuesday nights she went to a yoga class. I usually watched a series or movie she didn't enjoy watching together until she got back. Every other weeknight it was usually some version of compatible "Netflix and chill."

Kayla and I watch movies or shows together that often have a romantic element. I've never disliked romantic comedies, as long as there is actual comedy. She has a similar taste. We've seen our share of terrible ones, sweet ones, and the hot ones that lead to sex while the credits are rolling. The last are few and far between, so we usually discuss the film. That conversation was often more fun than the movie was.

The night that led us down a slippery slope, she picked the movie.

"Oh baby, here's a movie we haven't seen."

It was a movie called "Hall Pass."

For those who haven't seen it, the premise is that the wives decide to give their husbands a license to cheat. A "Hall Pass." It's a comedy and then hilarity ensues. We both agreed the movie wasn't great, but it was amusing.

After we discussed the movie, the conversation turned to the premise it was based on. Kayla asked, oh so casually, "How do you feel about the idea of either of us getting a Hall Pass?"

I wasn't exactly unprepared for this conversation, and I'll tell you why.

Remember Rick? The second time we'd met, was also at one of her work events. Clearly something had changed since the last time. When he found his way over to us, he was his usual gregarious self. He acknowledged both of us, but it was clear from his body language and how he talked he was only interested in talking to Kayla.

Kayla seemed like she was enjoying the conversation, and it seemed they shared an inside joke or two. Kayla included me in the conversation, but Rick always redirected the conversation to things only he and Kayla would be familiar with. It was somewhat entertaining. Kayla didn't seem concerned or aware of the dynamic here. She was just her usual engaging self.

So again, I didn't worry. My thought was, "Poor, delusional bastard."

Something occurred that changed my mind. Tan lines.

Kayla has a nice body. I'd been to several social events with her that involved a pool party with co-workers. She always wore a one-piece. She didn't feel her bikinis were appropriate among people she worked with. Kayla loved swimming, or at least being in the water. Most significant, she only loved it if the water was warm. If she wasn't planning on going in the water, she wore shorts. She liked getting her legs tanned when the sun was hot but the water was cold.

There was a get together at Lake Michigan I couldn't attend. I'd volunteered to help a friend move, and that is always an activity that shoots a Saturday all to Hell. She got back home before I did, and I was so exhausted I didn't really ask much about her day.

I wasn't so exhausted though, that I didn't fail to notice that night in bed, it was clear she had gotten sun in places that she normally wouldn't have after a typical pool party. She had clearly worn a swimsuit. It was a one piece, not a bikini, I discerned from reading the tea leaves our friend the sun had left on her glorious body. So it wasn't a Red Alert, but it was definitely a Yellow Alert. The fact that she wore a swimsuit at all was unusual. Lake Michigan is cold at the beginning of the Summer, and Kayla doesn't even go into cold water up to her ankles. Wearing a swimsuit took on a different meaning when my wife had clearly no intention of swimming.

I briefly mentioned it the next morning. "Baby, seems like you got a bit of sun."

"I wore a swimsuit, wanted to start getting a tan."

That was a reasonable answer. I had no doubt that was part of her reason, so she wasn't exactly lying. I didn't think for a moment that it was her primary reason though. Even in a one-piece, Kayla's bod is clearly tight. I was wondering if at that event, she wanted to display her wares. Since she had been in that type of suit at several pool parties with co-workers before, it wouldn't have attracted attention from her co-workers. Except from someone who hadn't seen her in a swimsuit before.

Kayla had given me no indication of being interested in being ogled by anyone, much less Rick Combs. Yet that second look from Rick, combined with the fact he had just recently transferred to Kayla's office, had me seriously reassessing the situation. Suddenly I went from, "She'll never respond to his obvious bullshit" to, "Damn, she's responding to his obvious bullshit."

That had occurred four days before the "spur-of-the-moment decision" to watch that particular movie. So now it was time to answer her question. "I've never really thought about it before baby, but it sounds interesting. We'd have to agree on the rules in advance, for something like that to work."

She gave me a quick peck on the cheek. "Of course. The rules are always the hardest part."

"I thought it was the waiting."

She smacked me on the shoulder. She was also a Tom Petty fan.

I will say, discussing the details was fun. It's the kind of thing we always did. As usual, we discussed all the possible permutations. Some places we were on the same page. For instance, it was easy to agree we each had a single pass, which meant we didn't need to confess, but had to be honest if asked. There would be no judgment. There would also be no need to disclose if not asked. Some parts required a bit more thought, and a bit more back and forth.

The longest part of that conversation was discussing "one night stand" versus "weekend with that person." If a trip came up, did that pass extend to the whole trip? Now here's the thing, I suspected who she might potentially travel with at work on one of her annual trips in four months. I also had a pretty good idea that suggesting the idea of a Hall Pass, might very well have come from Rick. I was 70/30 on that one.

We both agreed a long-term affair was out. So if it happened on a trip, we both decided three days was the most it could happen. Even if the trip was longer, an extended weekend seemed the right amount of time. It probably didn't need to be said, but we both said it anyway agreed, "No one gets pregnant."

We also agreed there could be no dishonesty at any stage. No one could lie about what they were doing or who they were with. There was no need to necessarily mention things when asked, but an outright lie meant that we had destroyed the trust we have always had for each other. There should be no need to lie, since we both were agreeing to this in advance.

So far, so good. All in fun. Then I applied the same precedent from the Celebrity Game to the Hall Pass. "I think we need three vetoes."

"That sounds about right baby. Need some time to think?"

Not at all, it was easy. "Terrence Albin, Brad Pitt, and Rick Combs."

She seemed surprised. Of course, her look could have been for any reason. "Why those three, baby?"

Terry was really just cover. Terry was not exactly a hunk. He's kinda the opposite of that, really the opposite. He's overweight, has terrible acne scars, and freezes around women. I just needed to round out my list. Besides, if she had actually approached Terry, there's no way Terry would have jumped at it. He would have felt too weirded out by it. He's a good friend.

What I said was, "Terry's my best friend. I don't think I could stand to be around him any more knowing he had the one thing I hold most dear. I'd also be worried about him crushing you with his weight."

"Baby, I'd never even consider him, for entirely that reason."

I wasn't sure which reason she was referring to, but I was on a roll.

"Brad Pitt, because he isn't on my celebrity list of vetoes. I don't think a guy who's had Jennifer Aniston and Angelina Jolie should have one more hot woman to add to his list. It seems like he's had his share." That one was also cover, but with a grain of truth. I really didn't want Brad Pitt fucking Kayla. She didn't wait for me to say the reason for the last one on the list.

"Why Rick? You just met him twice."

That was all I needed as confirmation. Explaining it required a more subtle approach.

"It's that second event, I can't get it out of my head. The whole time he was mingling with us, I never felt I was included in his conversation. He talked to you like I wasn't even there. I felt a bit disrespected."

"Really? Huh. He's not normally like that, I think you possibly got off on a bad foot."

"I wasn't worried about him, I was worried about you. Him ignoring me I can understand. You're hot as Hell. You focusing on him got under my skin." Okay, I was embellishing a bit with that last comment.

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry that happened. I didn't realize you felt that way."

Then she kissed me sensuously. "You are muh man! That will never happen again."

Good words, and I knew she meant it. I also knew what the unspoken part she was thinking. Our list of celebrities would change. A name would get added as another dropped off. So changing the lists could happen within a matter of a week or a month. I'm sure her wheels were spinning as to how I'd drop off Rick's name in the future.

"Well, everyone has a bad day. He's on my list, I'm sure it's irrational. Only one encounter, but I got a bad feeling." I didn't mention the first time when I'd seen his look. I was more aware of his intentions than she realized, and I didn't want to spoil what lay ahead.

She didn't appear to give it another thought and gave me her names. "Megan Garcia, Sarah Drummond and Tiffany MacKenzie."

Megan and Sarah made sense, they were her sisters. But who the fuck was Tiffany MacKenzie?

"Who the fuck is Tiffany Mackenzie?" I asked.

"She was my rival in high school. Every boy I went after, she went after. She managed to get Dylan Neville to ask her to the prom even though we had just started dating."

"Should I drop Terry and add Dylan Neville to my list?"

"No. It wouldn't have worked out, he was an idiot. I was about to break it off anyway. It's just the principle."

"Yes, I see. Clearly you've gotten over him."

"I should smack you in the balls mister. I was over him while I was with him. Tiffany though, she's the worst possible person on the planet you could have sex with."

"I don't even know her or where she lives."

"Which is great, because neither do I. It's a remote possibility, but you and her would send me into a rage. I'd pull her eyes out and take a mallet to your testicles. There would be no getting back from that." She paused. "The last thing I would want is our marriage affected."

"I feel the same way."

What we hadn't realized yet, was our marriage was already affected by that conversation. Without any kind of segue, we started making out like teenagers. It had been years since we just had a heavy necking session. The foreplay was something neither of us seemed to want to end. We spent a long time just kissing. She sucked my bottom lip. I kissed and sucked her fingers, her neck, her tits. I've always liked sucking her nipples, but that night, I delayed getting to her nips. I took my time on each patch of that landscape before getting there. While I worked my way to those pink peaks, I fingered her. She came as I sucked her erect nipple, my fingers and thumb wet, and just softly gasped. It was a sound so different from her usual ones. Normally, we vocalize together and feed off each other. This time, we were mostly silent, and I found her release intimate as fuck.