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The Date

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Something a little different.

My thanks again to Mostera1, he always makes my stories better.

I hope you enjoyed the read. As always, your feedback is appreciated.

*****

They had been married for six years and went together for a year before that. After all that time she knew her husband inside and out. He wasn't going to like it. Still...she had to try. It was such a worthwhile cause. Even if he didn't like it, it was for charity; really...how could he say no?

She'd been rehearsing ever since her friend told her about the event earlier that day. She had it all planned out. She waited until after dinner and everything was quiet. His stomach was full and he should be a little mellow from the wine; the time was right.

"Jerry, do you have a minute to talk?"

"Yeah, sure, honey. What's up?" he said while putting the TV remote down on the coffee table. With a pat of his hand, he scooted over to give his beautiful wife room to sit next to him on the couch. "You have my full attention," he said with a smile.

Marcy sat down and flashed her big green eyes in his direction. "Well, you know ever since mom died of breast Cancer last year, I've wanted to do something for charity."

"Yeah, honey, and I think it's a good idea," he responded.

"Well, I've got a chance to raise some money for Cancer research next month. Emmy, my friend from work, did it last year. She raised eight hundred dollars and said it was a lot of fun. She's going to do it again this year and I'd like to do it with her, but I'm afraid you won't like it."

"How much is it going to cost me?" he asked with caution.

"Nothing, honey; not a cent."

"I like it already," he joked. "If it's not going to cost me anything, why wouldn't I like it?" he asked with a slight chuckle.

"It, ah...it involves going on a date," she sheepishly replied.

"A date; what do you mean, a date?"

"Um, well, it's not really a date, date; it's just dinner and maybe some dancing."

"You lost me," he said, looking a little confused. "We go out to dinner, then go someplace to dance...how do you raise the money for the charity?"

"No, no, honey," she quickly replied. "It wouldn't be us. I'd be going out with someone else."

"Someone else...who?" She was right in the first place; Jerry suddenly wasn't liking this at all.

"Whoever bids the highest," she responded. "It's an auction, a charity auction."

It didn't take Jerry long to put two and two together. "An auction; you mean you'd be up on some stage, strutting your stuff while a bunch of strangers bid to take you out for the night? Sorry, honey; you'll have to come up with some other way to raise money. There's no way I'm letting my wife do something like that."

He knew how hard his wife took her mother's death. She was way too young to die. Ever since, Marcy had been talking about doing some charity work, but this...?

"Jerry..."

"I can't believe you're even considering this, Marcy. Hell, it's demeaning," he continued as he cut her off. "Would you really stand up there while a bunch of horny guys bid for you like a side of beef? No, absolutely not," he said again, this time even more emphatically. "I'm not putting my wife on the auction block; I don't care if it is for charity."

Again, Marcy started to say something but he still wasn't done yet.

"Honey, it's not only demeaning, it's downright dangerous. You could wind up with a rapist or some psycho killer. How the hell can they even get away with setting married women up on dates, like that? I thought that kind of thing was only for single people."

Marcy was disappointed. She knew he wouldn't like the idea but she wasn't expecting his reaction to be quite so strong. She was hoping to use a little friendly persuasion to talk him into it, but her hopes were rapidly diminishing. Still...nothing ventured, nothing gained.

She finally got a chance to speak. "When they first started, it was just for singles, but then a few of the married women wanted to volunteer, and of course the more women they have, the more money they make. So they opened it up to both married and single people. It's all for charity, honey."

"Yeah, I know; you said that before. The answer is no, Marcy. We'll put our heads together and figure out another way to give to charity. I'm sure there are things we can do together to raise money. I'm not letting you go out with some total stranger. I'd be worried sick the whole time you were out."

"Jerry, it's all very platonic. Last year the guy that won Emmy took her out for a nice dinner and a little dancing. He was a perfect gentleman and had her home before midnight."

"Honey, that's not the point. It isn't that I don't trust you. What if the guy who wins you is NOT a perfect gentleman? What the hell am I supposed to do while you're on this date that's not really a date, sit home twiddling my thumbs?"

"Jerry," she responded, "all the guys bidding are registered with the charity council. They have all the pertinent information on everyone. They even run them through credit checks. Most of them are big shot CEO's and business owners who contribute to several charities throughout the year. This is just a little more fun than simply writing a check. In addition to their donation being tax deductible, they get to spend some time with a member of the opposite sex, that's all. It's all very innocent, honey."

"Babe, I'm sorry but I just don't like the idea...not at all. I'll check around. I'm sure there's something you and I can do together to raise money for Cancer research."

"Jerry, it's..."

"Honey, please; let's drop it, okay? I'm just not comfortable with the whole idea."

***

"So...what did he say?" asked Emmy, the next day at work. Marcy hadn't even had a chance to sit down at her desk with her coffee yet.

"Nix," she replied. "He shut me down, cold."

"Why? Did you tell him it was to raise money for breast Cancer research?"

"Yes, of course I did. He just doesn't like the idea. I told you he wouldn't like me being out with another man. He said he'd be sitting home worrying about me all night."

"Shit, Marcy, is he really that insecure?" asked her friend.

"It's not that, he's afraid the guy will turn out to be a rapist or something."

Marcy took her first sip of coffee and thought about her friend's question. "I don't know, maybe you're right. Maybe he just doesn't trust me. Maybe he believes I'm going to sleep with the guy who bids on me."

"But that's ridiculous, Marcy. Have you ever given him cause to think like that?"

"No, of course not. I've never cheated on Jerry and he knows it. Honestly, I'm not sure what he thinks but he was adamantly against it."

"You think it'd do any good if I talked to him?"

"I don't know...maybe, but I doubt it." Marcy thought for a moment. "Actually, it might be better to have another man's perspective. Do you think Stan would talk to him?"

"Yeah, I don't see why not, but you think he'd listen to Stan. They only met once."

"I don't know, Emmy. I don't see that I have anything to lose."

"You have a point. You want me to have Stan call him at home tonight?"

"Yeah, I guess...no, wait a minute. I think it'd be better if Stan talked to him in person. How about if I ask you guys over for dinner? After we've eaten you can come in the kitchen with me to help with the dishes. We'll leave Stan and Jerry together in the dining room."

"Yeah, good idea," Emmy confirmed. "Hey, I have something here that might help as well," she said, digging in her purse. She handed Marcy a brochure. "Here's some literature about the auction. It tells all about the whole thing; how it's organized, the sign up process, how the bidders are vetted...everything."

Marcy took the pamphlet and looked it over. "Yeah, this is good. I'll leave it on the coffee table tonight, right under the remote. He's bound to see it there. Thanks. Between this and your husband, maybe we can get him to change his mind. I really want to do this...for my mom," she said as her eyes gazed over a little with moisture.

Later that evening, Marcy anxiously kept glancing at her husband who was sitting on the couch in the living room. "Come on," she urged under her breath. "Come on. You must see it. It's sitting right in front of you. Come on, pick it up."

Almost like magic, Jerry started reaching for the bro- "No, damn it," she silently cursed. He picked up the TV cable guide, instead...wait...he's hesitating. I think he sees the brochure. YES! He has it in his hand. He's opening it.

A big smile stretched across Marcy's face as she started to load the dishwasher. Maybe it won't change his mind, she mused, but at least he's reading it. She took that to mean he hadn't completely ruled things out. It gave her just the slightest bit of hope.

Jerry was still reading it when Marcy finished in the kitchen and joined him in the living room.

"Is this what you were talking about last night?" he asked refolding the tri-fold piece of literature and setting it back down.

"Yeah, honey. Emmy gave that to me to look over."

"Why? Didn't you tell her you couldn't do it?"

"Yes, of course I did. She...well, she gave it to me for you, actually. She thought that maybe if you knew more about it..."

"That I would change my mind," he interjected.

"Yeah," she sheepishly admitted. "Honey, it's for..."

"I know, I know; it's for charity. That doesn't mean everybody involved in this thing is a saint, honey."

"Did you read the brochure? Did you see all the precautions they take?"

"Yeah, I read it. I'll admit, it seems very well organized, but this is only the third year for this thing. If you ask me, they've just been lucky something hasn't happened."

"Honey, some of the registered bidders are in their sixties or seventies."

"Never heard of a dirty old man?" he countered.

Marcy could see he was still devoutly against it and thought it was better to drop it until she had backup. She wanted so badly to do what she could to raise money for Cancer research, but she wasn't going to let it jeopardize her marriage. She'd give it one more shot on Friday, if he was still dead set against it, she'd give up and hope for next year.

The next day Emmy asked if she got him to read the brochure. She said she had but it didn't seem to make any difference. She told Emmy to tell Stan not to push too hard on Friday. As much as she wanted to do it, she didn't want to make him mad.

Other than the brochure still laying on the coffee table, nothing more was said about the auction until Friday. Jerry thought she'd given up on the idea until he came home from work and saw the dining room table set for four.

"Are we having company, honey?" he asked, joining Marcy in the kitchen.

"Hi, honey." She greeted him with a smile and a big kiss. "Yeah, I invited Emmy and Stan over for dinner," she reported after breaking the kiss.

Jerry still had her in his arms as he closed his eyes and let his head drop at the news.

"Honey, don't be like that. She's my best friend at work. I just thought it'd be nice to have them over socially, that's all."

"Marcy, you're as transparent as cellophane. Don't give me that social crap; this is another attempt to get me to change my mind on that damn charity auction. How many times do I have to say no?"

"Okay," she retorted, "maybe it is. I'm sorry. I just really would like to do this, Jerry."

From the look on his face, he wasn't happy. She knew, without a doubt, this was her last hoorah.

"Alright, I'll stop. Just be nice to our company, okay? Emmy is my best friend at work. I've only met her husband a couple times but he seems nice, too. You met him once."

"I did? When?"

"At the company's anniversary party a couple years ago."

"Geeze, Marcy, I met a lot of people that night."

"I know, I'm sure you'll remember when you see him. Please, just be your own sweet, personable, charming, and funny self, tonight." She reached around his neck with both arms, looked into his eyes, and pressed herself against his chest. "If you're nice to my friends," she said in a sultry voice, "you could possible get lucky tonight." She knew that would bring a smile to his face; she wasn't wrong.

"You don't have to bribe me, gorgeous. I'm always my sweet, personable, charming, and funny self. However, I'm not about to turn your bribe down," he said just before kissing her again.

Just as Marcy felt something growing in his pants, the doorbell rang. He sighed as they broke the kiss.

"Keep that thought in mind," she told him, patting her hand on his chest.

Together they went to greet their guests. Jerry did remember Stan as soon as he saw him. He remembered, out of all the people he met that night, Stan was one of the few he liked. He had seen Emmy when he'd sometimes pick his wife up after work or taken her out to lunch.

Dinner was very pleasant. Jerry kept his word and had everyone laughing with his sharp wit and charm. Not one word was spoken about the auction until the girls cleared the table and retreated into the kitchen.

"I understand you're not too keen about this charity auction thing," Stan said, seizing the moment.

"Not really," Jerry replied. "Don't you worry about Emmy's safety? I mean, you have no idea who she's out with."

"This is a pretty hoity-toity event, Jerry. Hell, some of the girls have gone for as much as two grand. As pretty as Marcy is, she might even bring in more than that. The guys that sign up to bid are all pretty well off. They're bankers, lawyers, business people..."

"Lawyers," Jerry interrupted with a chuckle. "Now I know the answer's no."

It was a joke and Stan knew it. Maybe it was a clue that he was spreading it a little too thick. "You know what I mean," he replied with a laugh. "Anyway, I don't worry about it. I figure the group that puts this thing on every year would be nuts not to take every precaution for the girls safety."

Stan made sense. There was another question Jerry wanted to ask, but if he did, he knew it would get right back to Marcy and he didn't want that so it remained unasked. Stan's pitch was short and sweet. They continued to talk, but about other subjects until Jerry was called.

"Honey," he heard his lovely wife's voice coming from the kitchen. "Could you come and open the wine for us?"

"I'll be right there," he answered. He excused himself from Stan to go play bartender.

The rest of the night was filled with great conversation and lots of laughs. If nothing else, thought Jerry, they had a great evening and gained two new friends. As for the charity auction...well, Stan had him thinking about it.

At the end of the night, Jerry and Marcy said goodbye to their company with a promise of getting together again, soon. Marcy never said another word about the auction, but instead, took Jerry's hand and led him up stairs to collect his reward for being so nice to Emmy and Stan.

Jerry was already hard by the time they reached the bedroom. He took his sexy wife in his arms and drew her up tight for a kiss. She felt him immediately and looked up with a smile.

"You don't waste time, do you," she said in a throaty whisper.

He slowly pulled down the zipper of her dress. Marcy felt goose bumps as it fell to her feet.

Enough of the slow seduction, she thought, it wasn't necessary. She was worked up and wanted it now. Almost frantically, she reached down and unbuckled his belt, rapidly followed by the fastener and zipper of his pants. He moaned as she shoved her hand down his underwear and wrapped her fingers around the stiff shaft inside.

"Look what I found," she chuckled. "You know what they say...finder's keeper's."

"It's all yours, baby," he breathed, "anytime, anywhere."

Within seconds they were both naked and on the bed. He knew every one of her hot spots, and touched on every one; behind the ear, under her chin, and of course the nipples.

She groaned, screamed, pleaded, and yelled, "Oh God," more times than he could count...and he hadn't even stuck it in yet.

When he did, she dug her nails into his back, wrapped her legs around his waist, and pushed her hips back and forth to coincide with every thrust of her man's love tool.

She felt her passions rising with each stroke. Every nerve stood on end as her body stiffened and waves of ecstasy washed over her.

Jerry's body became rigid. He climaxed, shooting again and again, until he was completely spent.

Exhausted, he collapsed next to his panting wife. As they both fought to breathe, Marcy curled into his side and sought the comfort and protection of his strong body.

Jerry wrapped his arm around her small frame and gave her a big hug, bringing her even closer.

***

The following Monday morning, Jerry was sitting at his desk when Bob Knoll poked his head through the doorway. "Hey, good buddy, have you seen Carl's new secretary? Smokin!" he said in his best Jim Carrey imitation.

Bob was Jerry's best friend at work. They played golf together almost every Sunday and hand ball at the "Y" on Wednesdays. But, unlike Emmy and Stan, he and his wife, Susie, knew both Jerry and Marcy very well. The four of them had been friends for years. In fact, Bob knew Jerry so well he could tell something was wrong just by looking at him.

"Uh oh, what's the matter, good buddy? You look like you just missed a six inch putt to break eighty."

Jerry sighed and sat back in his chair. "Do you have a minute?"

"Sure." Bob wandered the rest of the way into Jerry's office and sat down. "What's up?"

"I guess I'm feeling a little guilty," Jerry replied. "Would you let Susie go out on a date with somebody you didn't know, if it was for charity?"

Bob looked at him a little strangely. "Ah...I don't know. I guess it would depend on the circumstances. What...ah..."

"Marge wants to volunteer for this charity auction thing," Jerry went on to explain. "It's supposedly just a lot of good natured fun. Women volunteers get on stage and they're bid on by guys in the audience. The money each girl raises goes to Cancer research. After the auction each woman goes out with the guy that won her with the highest bid. Supposedly all they do is go out to dinner and maybe go dancing afterward. Marge has a friend who did it last year and said the guy was a perfect gentleman the whole night."

"Ah, but you're not sure the guy who wins Marge will be such a perfect gentleman..."

"Exactly," confirmed Jerry. "There's another factor here as well, her safety. What if she winds up with some ass hole who beats her up, or rapes her?"

Bob silently sat thinking for a moment. "So what is it that you're really worried about; that she's going to get raped, or that she's going to cheat on you?"

"I don't know," he grumbled back. "Both, I guess." Jerry looked over his friend's shoulder and stared out the window behind him as he recalled..."I had a steady girlfriend in high school. Her name was Michelle. God, I was in love with her. All through my senior year all I could think of was graduating, getting a full-time job, and earning enough money to buy her a ring. Then a month before graduation, I found out she was screwing one of the guys on the football team. I was devastated. For a while I didn't think I'd survive. I did of course but it left a scar. I've had trust issues ever since."

"Come on, man; has Marcy ever given you a reason not to trust her?" Bob asked.

"No. As far as I know she's never even looked at another guy. I know- I'm being stupid but I can't help it. I also worry about her safety, too. I'd feel a whole lot better if I knew who she would be going out with."

Bob had a brainstorm. "Why don't you go and bid on her yourself? Problem solved, right?"

"I thought of that but I don't have that kind of bread. I talked to one guy who said some of the prettier girls can bring in two grand. Shit, I can't afford that. We just bought the house. That took almost everything we had saved."

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