The Borrowers' Club Ch. 01

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Women saving each other's marriages.
5.4k words
4.34
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 10/31/2022
Created 01/11/2013
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Umberto's was a better than average restaurant in a rather upscale mall which was why Twyla and Christine met there to celebrate Twyla's promotion. After really splendid seafood salads they checked their smart phones, cancelled all afternoon appointments and ordered two more glasses of Chardonnay.

Christine raised her glass in a toast. "Here's to future success and higher advancement. You go, girl, you earned it!"

Twyla clinked her glass with a smile. "More challenges, more money and, hopefully, more respect. The only drawback is more travel. I really don't know how the rest of you manage that part. Aren't any of you afraid of leaving your husbands home alone so much?"

Christine swirled the golden liquid around in her mouth, sucking in a bit of air to bubble up the bouquet and swallowed. Then she put the glass on the table. "There was a while when we sure did, and with good reason. There were some ugly fights and a couple of divorces because the guys would get 'lonely'. And I have to admit they had a point. Most of them make as much as we do, help with the housework and kids just like a properly evolved American man is supposed to do these days and what were they getting in return? A good night phone call before bed. That's when we got together and formed the Borrowers' Club."

"The Borrowers' Club? I don't understand."

"Well, let's say you and I partner up. I head off to Shanghai and am gone for a month on some huge deal. Naturally, I call home every morning to catch Vic just before he goes to bed to chat a little, exchange kisses and remind each other that we are still a couple. But after a couple of weeks he starts sounding really pathetic when he says he misses me. That's a danger sign, that is, so I tell him to give Dale a call. Dale understands and feels sorry for him so right after Vic puts the kids to bed, you knock on the door. He invites you in, pours a couple of drinks to help you both relax, you talk a little, snuggle on the couch for a while and then head upstairs. You have sex, he rolls over and goes to sleep and you go home. Of course, if Dale is anything like most of the men, the thought of his buddy borrowing his wife is incredibly arousing so it's when you get home that the reallyhot sex happens."

"What? That's mad. You keep your husband from straying by encouraging him to cheat? With his best friend's wife?"

"Actually, the way the rest of the girls see it, it's more cheating prevention. Look at it like this. If you're gone a long time, your husband might decide that a drink or two at the local bar will help dull the pain. If he goes to a bar, he might meet a woman and after a few drinks go home and have sex with her, someone you don't know. She, in turn, might decide she likes him. She might like him enough for a second, a third, a who-knows-how many nights. Then, after you get back, he starts sneaking around to see her some more, you get suspicious and that's when all Hell breaks loose. Our way, everybody is up front and open. The guy isn't really having an affair, he just wants some company, some skin-to-skin contact and, of course, his ashes hauled a time or two until you get home and life returns to normal—until your next trip. But everything is kept under control because none of us are out to steal each other's husbands."

Twyla snorted. "Right. And if Vic is traveling you can call me and 'borrow' Dale? Why do I find that hard to swallow?"

Christine took another sip and looked out the window at the play yard where a costumed clown babysat toddlers while their mothers shopped. "You know, that issue has never come up. I guess it's just luck that all the husbands have jobs in town and don't need to travel. Blame it on Ogilvycorp, I guess, since they're the one most of us work for. But the pay and benefits are super so we do it and make whatever arrangements we think we have to."

Twyla waved for the check and reached into her Gucci bag for her company credit card. Since they had been talking about business, she considered it a legitimate expenditure. Handing the folder to the waiter she turned back to Christine. "No. No way. Just—just no! That has to be wrong. I'm not sure why right at this minute but it has to be. Maybe I'll just get lucky and not be gone for such a long time but I am not signing up for the Borrowers' Club. Nothing personal, Chris, but—no."

Christine laughed lightly, gathered her things and stood up. "No problem, Twy, and no hard feelings. But if for any reason you change your mind, just have Dale give Vic a call. He'll know what it means."

Life continued as before, at least for the next few months. Twyla was, indeed, lucky at first and her trips rarely lasted a week. The happy set of circumstances ended in late June when a short trip to Lucerne ran into negotiations that went nowhere. A week stretched into two with no end in sight. But with a quarter of a billion dollars on the line, Twyla was in no mood to quit. Ogilvycorp needed that order and she was bound and determined to deliver it.

Unfortunately by the third Monday Dale's voice on the phone was getting wistful and Twyla remembered Christine's warning. A pathetic-sounding husband was a husband in danger. Worse, the next day Dale tried to stay cheerful and tell her about his day.

"Hey, you wouldn't believe who showed up at the bank today—Melissa Hargrove."

An Arctic owl suddenly formed in Twyla's stomach and sank its talons into the walls. "Really? And what did she have to say?" Her words were boreal. Melissa had been her arch-rival for Dale's affections from high school to their wedding day. Having her around a lonely husband was trouble with a capital T.

"Oh, she's divorced again and moved back in town. She came in looking for a new place. With her down payment and income the best I could do was aim her over to the Pinedale townhouses."

"So she won't be a neighbor?"

"Cripes, no. There's no way in Hell she could afford a place in Morvington. She did promise to stop by now and again, though. Anyway, I've got to get up early tomorrow. Miss you something terrible, baby." And he kissed the phone and hung up.

Twyla had a hard time concentrating on business that day. Melissa's catty voice seemed to ring in her ears, promising revenge for getting Dale.She's going to take my little boys' daddy away. She'll make him miserable and then shed him like a worn out pair of shoes. I should go home right now and straighten this out. I can't leave. This means too much to the company, to my career. I wish I were home. Besides, I can feel a breakthrough coming; I know I can. What am I going to do? Who can I call?

Call! That was the magic word. "Just have Dale call Vic. He'll know what it means," and hard as it was to accept, Twyla was forced to agree. Better Dale sleep with Christine, open and aboveboard, than get tempted into Melissa's sticky web with the nasty chance she'd turn out to be a black widow!

The next night, Dale sounded worse than ever. Twyla tried to buck him up with her belief that the Europeans were about to crack and that the deal would be made 'soon', whenever 'soon' was. Finally, just before she hung up, Twyla took a deep breath and said, as warmly as she could, "Honey, I know how hard it is for you. Tell you what, call Vic and tell him I've changed my mind and have decided to join the club. Do it right now. I Love you." She kissed the mouthpiece and hung up.

Later that night, Dale put the twins to bed. He'd listened to their bedtime prayers and when they got to, "And bless Daddy and Mommy—and make her come home" he almost broke down.

He did the dishes, straightened up a little, and sat down in front of the desktop in his study. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything that needed doing. His work from the bank was all done and the bills were all paid so with a sigh he turned it off and slouched out into the living room. He picked up the TV section. Nothing, nothing at all was worth watching. None of his favorite teams were playing. He hated sitcoms and cop shows so he sat on the couch and felt sorry for himself.

By chance, his glance scanned the business card Melissa had handed him. It had "call me anytime" written in peacock blue ink. He knew Twyla wouldn't like it but if they just talked about old times on the phone, how could it hurt? He picked up the card and opened his phone and was just about to start dialing when there came a quiet knock on the front door. Puzzled, Dale lay down the phone and the card and went to answer it.

He turned the knob and pulled and then took a step backwards in surprise as Christine sauntered in, wearing a clingy, low-cut tunic over matching tights. She closed the door behind her and stood on tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

"Hi, Sweetie, Twyla thinks you're lonely and badly in need of some company tonight."

She went to the bar and poured a pair of Gordon's-and-tonic, handed one to Dale and plumped herself down on the couch. She patted the space next to her.

"Come sit down, Dale, I'm not going to bite you."

Obviously confused, Dale sat next to the phone, not Christine. Paying his hesitation no heed, she slid over next to him, put her drink on the coffee table, wrapped both her arms around his left one and snuggled up next to his shoulder. "Dale, honey," she whispered, "It's okay with Twyla. In fact, that call she told you to make? It's why I'm here."

Disbelief spread across Dale's face. "She said she'd decided to join a club. What's that got to do . . .?"

"The Borrower's Club, Dale. It's a group of wives who have to travel a lot on business. We love our men and we don't want them getting 'lost and lonely'. So we joined together to take care of you guys whenever we're gone a long time. Here," she reached across him and picked up the phone, "you can call her and ask."

Dale looked at the phone. "It's one a.m. in Lucerne. She called me at five p.m. our time just before she went to bed. I can't call her; she needs to sleep. And all I really wanted was someone to talk to."

"I know," Christine whispered, "you just want to borrow someone sympathetic to talk to and warm to hang on to. Vic understands only too well. That's why he said I needed to hurry over." She nibbled his earlobe and laid the phone on the couch next to her.

"I didn't think her promotion would take her away like this." Dale was almost whimpering. "I thought she'd only be gone a few days at a time. I never realized . . ."

Christine slipped from his side to his lap. She took his head in both arms and cradled it on her braless breasts. "Those are the downsides to promotion, Dale. And we both know she'd much rather be home with you than arguing with a bunch of stubborn Europeans. But since she's there and you're here, I'm here."

Dale could feel his tension fade. Someone sympathetic to talk to and someone warm to hold onto, Christine had said. It sounded awfully good. Then she pulled his face up to hers and kissed him long, deep and hot. As the kiss went on, she unbuttoned his shirt and ran her hands down inside, tweaking his nipples. His cock woke up.

"You're sure Twyla said it was okay?"

"Yes she did. And now we're going upstairs. You need some very personal attention."

When they got to the bedroom Christine finished unbuttoning Dale's shirt and then, with a leer, she undid his pants and pushed them down, freeing his stiff, eager manhood.

"See?" she whispered, "Iknew you needed some very personal attention, just like Twyla thought." She pushed him backwards onto the bed, grabbed the hem of her tunic and slowly pulled it up to just under her breasts. Then she flicked it up and two pink globes bounced up and down. Dale's eyes widened. Chris winked and turned her back on him and, swaying her butt left and right, slowly pulled down her leggings, teasing him bit by bit. When her ass was free, she bent down and pushed them off giving the guy a clear view of her smooth, round-lipped pussy. She stepped out of them and put her arms around his neck, rubbing her nipples across his chest.

"Where are your condoms, Dale-baby? I'll give you a blowjob if you don't have any but I know you'd rather fuck me, wouldn't you?"

Speechless, he pointed at the top drawer of the nightstand. She pulled one out, unwrapped it, and put it to her lips. Chris bent down and with her mouth pushed it over the glistening purple head of his cock and swallowed forcing it all the way on. "Now lay back, hon, this cowgirl's going for a ride."

Doing as he was told, Dale watched in wonder as she straddled him, took his cock in her hand and put to the opening of her sex. She rubbed it back and forth a few times and then sat down. He moaned.

"Poor man, it has been a long time, hasn't it? So you just lay back and I'll make you feel a lot better." She put both palms on his chest and started to post up and down.

She was right. It had been weeks and Dale was in no condition to take his time. In only a few minutes he started to whimper and push up into her then with a groan filled the condom and went limp.

Christine bent down and kissed him warmly. "There now, Twyla's guy will sleep a lot better tonight, won't he?" Dale nodded. She pulled the covers up over both of them and spooned next to his side. As she expected, he was asleep within minutes.

Christine slipped out of bed and after putting her clothes back on, tiptoed downstairs. As she left, she turned off the lights but paused next to the couch. Melissa's card still sat on the arm where it had been when she picked up the phone. Chris looked at the card with a frown, especially the peacock ink invitation. She stuck it in her pocket and left.

Arriving back home Chris threw her outfit into the hamper and sashayed naked into the bedroom. "Hey, baby," she greeted her husband, "you in the mood? 'Cause I'm definitely up for seconds, see?" She hopped onto the bed and spread her legs wide showing off wet, swollen labia. She knew what the result would be.

"Wench! Roll over, girl; you know what lending you out does to me."

By the time he finally shot his load into her, she'd had three moaning orgasms. He pulled out and sat back but before she could sit up commanded, "Leave those legs apart, woman. I want to watch you drip. I swear, every time you come back from a Borrowing I want to make another baby in you."

Chris smiled over her shoulder in surprise. "Victor, you—you alpha male you! You never said. Do you seriously want to knock me up again?"

"I sure as hell do."

"Mmm, I can't get the implant out until next week but if we start after my next period, the baby would be born in mid to late spring and I wouldn't be pregnant through the summer. I like that. Of course, I'd have to be doubly careful on any Borrowings until the test was positive." She laughed. "I wonder if any of my partner's hubbies have pregnancy fetishes. It could be fun!"

"It would but are you sure you want to? It might not be a good move, career-wise."

"Oh, puff! Ogilvycorp is a very family-positive company. They'd better be; the CFO has four kids of her own."

*****

The next night when Twyla called home her first words were, "Are you feeling better tonight, Sweetheart?"

Dale swallowed hard. He still found it strange that his wife would approve of his fucking a neighbor but Chris had insisted she did so he answered, "Yeah, lots better."

"Good. I had real doubts about joining the Borrowers but like Chris said, better someone I know and can trust than some strange nookie who finds you when you're lonely and vulnerable."

Dale winced internally. He knew who Twyla was referring to. And to think he'd almost made that call.

"Now remember," Twyla continued, "when you get really hard up again, just call Vic. I think the Euros are weakening. They know they need our products; they just don't want to pay for them. I'm hoping to be home in ten days or so, but if I'm not don't sit there being miserable."

The conversation drifted off to other married couples' subjects until they phone kissed and hung up. Dale went looking for Melissa's card so he could make it disappear but when he couldn't find it, shrugged and finished his evening.

*****

The Europeans folded only a little quicker than Twyla thought so it was three weeks later that she and Chris were once again 'doing lunch' at Umberto's. The conversation had been mostly about kids, clothes and their jobs when Christine sucked both lips and gently laid a hand on her friend's.

"Twy, who is Melissa Hargrove?"

Twyla set her dessert fork down with a clank and almost spit out the response. "I would call her a conniving, back-stabbing bitch but that would be an insult to female canines. We knew each other in high school and about the time I started dating Dale, she got it into her head that he should marry her instead of me. She did everything she could to break us up or tempt the guy into bed with her but even though he's at times the innocent's innocent, it didn't work. She's been married and divorced at least twice since then and now Dale says she's back in town. She even stopped by at his bank 'to say hello'! That's what made me change my mind about the Club and told him to call Vic. What do you know about her?"

"Nothing but what you've just told me. It's just that the first time I went over her business card was sitting by his phone. She'd written 'Call me anytime' in peacock ink on it. After I put Dale to sleep, I took the card. You want it?"

Twyla looked at her, thought for a second, glanced over at the candle on their table and with a malicious grin responded, "Yes!" She took the card from Christine and laid it over the top of the little votive holder, leaned back and watched in satisfaction as it caught fire and burned to black ash.

"Thank-you, girl, I really needed that. So, when is your next trip? I know Vic will call Dale before one of your other partners. Men like the idea of new pussy whenever they can get it."

Christine grinned. "Don't they, though? I'm supposed to be in Spokane for a week at the end of the month. By the strict rules of the Club, a week really isn't long enough to warrant a call. These are supposed to be mercy runs in 'emergencies', not some sort of formalized bed hopping. But you're right. Vic will want to call in the debt, just because he can. You can probably expect to be paying him a visit on either Wednesday or Thursday. And Stephaney's bedtime is eight o'clock so you should arrive around a quarter to half past.

And—I was going to ask you this anyway but weare on the subject. How does Dale last so long? The second time he called for me I knew it wouldn't be a five minute quickie, but—shoot! After he ate me and I sucked him up good and hard he rode me for half an hour. I lost track of the number of orgasms I had. Vic is good but, Twyla, your guy is a sexual athlete. Can he teach Vic how he does it?"

Twyla blushed around the chocolate mousse. "We decided to go to Hawaii for our honeymoon? And we heard about a group called Morehouse? They were offering courses in multiple orgasms for men and we were so curious we made an appointment before we got married. When we arrived we took the course and did it ever work! The second week of our honeymoon I think we spent most of the day in bed either fucking or sleeping to recover so we could start over again. We had to go back to Hawaii again the next year to see what the islands looked like. We never saw much but the hotel ceiling the first time."

Christine's blue eyes were wide. "Coo . . . Yanno, I've heard about that sort of thing but never paid it much attention. You mean if I took Vic to Hawaii he could learn to last that long, too?"

Twyla's blush turned to a mischievous smirk. "Chris, honey, half an hour is just our normal three-times-a-week fuck. Before the twins were born, he'd spend all Saturday morning inside me. We still leave them with one or the other set of grandparents or his sister every month or so and take off some place quiet. So, yeah, Vic could learn that." Twyla giggled. "I bet that would come as a big surprise to your other partners. How many are there?"

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