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Chapter 3. Ducky and Abby go on a date.

             Abby wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep, but as her eyes peeked open, the sudden rush of light let her know that it was still fairly early in the day.  As she stretched and yawned, she rolled onto her back and up on her elbows to survey her surroundings.  It only took a fraction of a second to realize that she was still at Ducky’s brownstone…still in Ducky’s bed.  From the movement of the cool cotton overtop her, she could feel she was still naked under the navy blue sheet and comforter.  Replaying the activities of the morning in her mind, she let her head drop to the pillow once more, and smiled. 


          The only sound to be had besides the rustling of the bed linens were a few small birds outside the closed window.  This made for a sharp contrast when the bathroom door slowly opened, filling the air with a shriek, hinges groaning.  Abby snapped her head towards the sound and watched as the figure emerged. 


           “Ah, awake again Abigail, I see,” chimed Ducky.  He strolled to the side of the bed and took a seat, perching himself atop the covers.  At some point while Abby slept, he had redressed…more or less.  His shirt was buttoned, leaving the top two open, and as best Abby could tell, his bowtie was still presumed missing in action.


           “That’s a lot of alliteration Duck-Man,” Abby added, sitting up on the bed, keeping the comforter tucked firmly under her arms.  “How long did I sleep?” she asked.  Removing her ponytail holder, she raked her hands though her hair trying to work out some of the tangles.  Ducky caught himself watching her, almost mesmerized by the simple yet elegant sight of her raven colored locks flowing freely about her shoulders.  Checking his watch, he finally answered.


          “Just shy of an hour and a half love.  You looked like you needed it, so I let you sleep.”


          “Thanks Ducky,” she replied with a smile.  Finally feeling the mix of fluids seeping from between her legs, Abby realized that she desperately needed to clean up.  “And now what I need is a shower…would you mind?” she asked as she motioned her head towards the door he had recently appeared from. 


          “What’s mine is yours now Abigail…help yourself.” He smiled while motioning towards the master bathroom with his hand.  Abby returned his smile and slid out of the opposite side of the bed.  Not bothering to cover herself, she walked proudly, he might even have called it smugly, over to graze his lips with a passing, teasing kiss.  Sashaying her way across the bedroom, Abby disappeared with a final smile, biting slightly on her lower lip. 


          She will be the death of you, the voice in his head called out as Ducky left Abby to her shower.  He let an audible chuckle out as he crossed the second floor landing and entered the study...Ahhh, but what a way to go!




            Having found the towel hutch easily enough, Abby had poured herself into the spacious glass and stone shower.  For the first few minutes, she just escaped into the steamy water and tried to switch her brain back on.  She let the water hit her face, washing away the half-assed attempt she had made at make-up that morning. 


            Refusing to fight with the ‘what if” scenarios that soon filled her head, Abby reached for the soap to start cleaning herself.  The bar of Irish spring was on the shelf at the back of the shower.  Smiling, she picked up the bar and worked it into a lather in a washcloth.  What irony, a Scotsman using Irish Spring.  A giggle slipped past her lips as she replaced the bar and lathered herself. 




            Across the landing, in his study, Ducky settled in another king’s chair with a stack of medical books beside it.  Pulling his cell phone from the pocket of his trousers, he flipped it open and scrolled through the contact list.  Finding the number he needed, he took a deep breath and pushed the call button.  Surprisingly nervous about setting up another date, his first real date since he took Abby to dinner the better part of a year ago, he took another deep breath as the phone rang for the second time.  Halfway through the third ring, a male voice answered the other end. 


           “Hey Ducky, what’s up?”


           “Ah, Timothy, I was hoping you might be able to do me a favor?  It’s rather time sensitive I’m afraid…”



            Having cleaned herself, Abby dried off as best she could, her hair having to remain partly damp with no hair dryer on site, and went back to the bedroom to dress.  She found all of her clothing easily and snickered when she found Ducky’s bowtie.  Sliding the silk from her jeans, she placed it on the bed while she dressed.  She felt too good to be bothered with her panties and bra, so she dumped both in the hamper next to the bathroom door.  Sliding into her jeans, she placed the tie on his pillow before throwing her t-shirt back on. 


          “Ducky?” she called out as she stepped onto the landing. 


          “Across the hall, study room,” he replied. 


          When she entered the room he was staring at his cell phone, but he tossed it onto the stack of books beside his chair as she approached. 


          “How was the shower?” he asked, opening his arms to invite her to sit with him.


          “The only thing missing was you!” she beamed as she slid her ass next to his in the large chair, draping her legs over his lap. 


          “Duly noted my dear.” Ducky replied with a grin, quickly chasing visuals of shower sex from his forethought.  He draped his right arm over her legs atop his own lap and moved his left arm to encircle her waist.  Without any hesitation, he hugged her close to him and kissed her.  Each time their lips had met recently, he fought a surge of butterflies in his stomach…a feeling he had grown rather fond of in the last few hours. 


          The kiss was brief albeit passionate, more sensual than needy.  Even in its termination, it left both of them grinning as Abby tucked her head onto Ducky’s shoulder, feeling more at ease than she had in months.  He traced circles around the small of her back; she let slip a contented sigh which pulled a small chuckle from his own lips.  Abby wrapped her arms around Ducky’s waist, hugging him as they sat in blessed silence for a few minutes.  She might have fallen asleep again had it not been for his phone barking to life beside them.


          Regrettably, Ducky slid out from under Abby, leaving her perched in his king’s chair while he headed to the landing with his phone.  “Be just a minute,” He added with his departure.  With the distance, she couldn’t hear the voice on the other end, just Ducky’s half of the conversation. 


          “Yes, hello.  How did it go?” followed by an appropriate pause.  “Oh wonderful!” another pause and nonverbal grunts to show he was listening to some sort of details.  “Thank you again…uh huh…goodbye.” 


           Abby didn’t even try to hide her curiosity as Ducky reentered the study.  Tossing his phone back in his trouser pocket, Ducky leaned on a bookshelf near the door. 


           “Tonight, we hit the show my dear!” he exclaimed, grinning. 


          “Any more details than that D-Man?” she was nervous but excited at the prospect of another date with Ducky.   


          “Just that I will pick you up at six for dinner, a show will follow, and…well…the rest of the evening is to play out as it may, more or less.” He trailed off. 


          Abby, having remembered the current time was approaching one o’clock, shot up out of the chair and into the landing, trailed by a now curious Ducky. 


          “I have to go find an outfit, I have to find shoes…I don’t even know what kind of show it is Ducky!” she started to ramble.  She was pacing back and forth in the middle of the landing, signing along with her uttered words, something she did when she was nervous.  One of the eccentricities he loved about her.  “Where are we going for dinner…oh my God, I have to pack, I need clothes and make-up, and...” she was cut off by Ducky grasping her arms and centering her.


          “Abigail, easy does it!” He reached up and cradled her face in his hands.  “Tonight need not be stressful…wear whatever you would like.  Dinner can be wherever your heart desires…and as for packing…” He found himself nervous now at the thought, “Well I believe I owe you a night at your apartment.”


            “Really?!” Abby questioned excitedly, biting her lower lip again.


          “That was the deal was it not?  Next time at your place?” Ducky let his hands fall from her face to her waist and closed the space between them.  He could see the thoughts flowing behind her eyes, gifting her a few moments to sort them out.


          “Okay Ducky!” she squealed.  “That saves me the packing part.  Dinner will be at my place at six, I insist!” Her hands were talking just as fast as she was again.  “Oooooh, and we need to coordinate our outfits!  Oh no, I have to hit the market on the way home!”  Abby started to head towards the stairs but stopped and returned to Ducky for one final kiss.  This time, it was her whom cradled his head as her tongue darted past his eager lips. 


         Before he knew, the kiss had ended and Abby was already bounding down the stairs toward the front door.  Ducky leaned on the landings railing, watching her in her giddy delight.  She grabbed her leather jacket from the stand and turned with some parting words.


          “Love you Donald…six o’clock, don’t be late!” she waved while opening the door.


          “Love you, Abigail.  Wouldn’t dream of it.” He waved as she took her leave, the door clicking behind her.


          He allowed himself a few moments to try and organize a plan for himself to prepare for the evenings events.  You are in for quite a night laddie.  Making a list of items needed, he retired to his room to pack.  Oh, don't I know it...





          Abby had underestimated how long it would take to get from Ducky’s to her apartment with a southern swing to Captain White’s Seafood City on the way.  She looked at the small box of shrimp and crawfish on the floor of her coupe…Figures the only place in town that has crawfish would be out of the way...she grumbled under her breath.  Shifting down to second gear, she merged onto US 50, headed east, and rammed the coupe back into third.  “Come on Mitch…we need to fly”, she told her car, desperately wishing for a higher speed limit.




            Ducky locked up his brownstone home and set out for the Morgan out front.  He placed his modestly sized luggage on the passenger seat and covered it with his black suit jacket and fedora.  Sliding into the driver’s seat, he checked his watch before starting the car to leave.  Five o’clock, he noted, plenty of time.  Timothy had agreed to meet him at Mt. Vernon Square with the tickets to spare Ducky the commute through the heart of DC.  As he headed east/southeast toward the square, he laughed at the concern Timothy had voiced about finding Ducky at the plaza. 


          “How will I know where you are Ducky?” He had inquired. 


          “I doubt there will be two silver 64 Morgans driving about, Timothy.  Just look for my car, I will park by the Carnegie Library.” Ducky chuckled at the young man’s nerves for certain situations.


          “Oh…right…I um…I guess I will see ya then Ducky,” Tim stammered.


          Twenty minutes after the phone call, Ducky parked in front of the library as stated.  It proved harder to pick Tim’s Porsche out in the mass of weekend traffic.  He was surprised to see it pull in behind him minutes later, as the projected route from his house should have had him coming in from the east.  Tim let the car run while he hopped out and went instinctively to the left side of the Morgan.  Leaning down to peer in the window, Tim found Ducky motioning him to the right side of the car.  Ducky had the window down by the time he had walked around to the proper door. 


            “Sorry Ducky, I always forget it’s a right hand drive.” Tim apologized, handing an envelope over for inspection.


            “Not to worry Timothy, it catches a lot of people…” he trailed off examining the tickets.  “Wow, row E, you are good!” He tucked the envelope under his fedora and retrieved a small clip of cash, handing it to Tim.  “I expected you from the east, was there a detour?” Ducky inquired.


            “Oh…ah, no, well…I don’t know, I...I was at Tony’s.  Boss let us off at two today so we started our Bond marathon early.” Tim stammered. “So, uhh, who’s the lucky lady?” He joked with a grin.


            “La dame en rouge [the lady in red],” Ducky answered, almost singing. “See you on Monday Tim.” Ducky said, rolling the window up.  Tim waved as he went back to his car and the Morgan continued on its journey east.



            “I’m telling you Tony,” Tim handed the other man a beer before sitting next to him on the leather couch, “Ducky’s got a big date!”


            Tony scoffed between bites of room temperature pizza.  “You got that from one set of theater tickets?  Duck-Man likes the theater you know, it’s not that odd.”  He took a swig of beer to wash the food down and resumed Gold Finger where they had left off. 


            “He was in a tux Tony, and he called me Tim.  He’s never called me Tim...not in the 6 years I’ve been there!”


            “Always overthinking stuff probie,” Tony snickered.  “Did he say who the big date was with?”


            Tim finally started on his beer and grabbed another slice.  “The lady in red was all he would say.”


            “What’s the show?”


            “Side-Show.  Box office says it’s about carnival freaks finding fame and love.” Tim added, staring at the TV blankly while chewing a large bite of crust.


            Tony laughed, “Sounds more like Abby’s thing than Ducky’s,” taking another swig of beer.


            Both of them returned their attentions to the TV in front of them, but Tim had a plaguing thought in the back of his mind…..Ducky’s date couldn’t be Abby….could it?



            Abby heard the distinctive growl of the Morgan as it slowed and entered the parking lot outside her apartment.  She allowed herself a gaze through the window to verify Ducky was outside.  She watched him don his coat and grab his belongings before she returned to the kitchen.  Careful not to spill the large platters, she placed both dishes on the small table before answering the knock at the door.


            Swinging the door open, Abby rushed to hug Ducky before he even had a chance to enter.  Ducky returned the hug and placed a kiss on her cheek before pulling back to look her over.


            “Abigail…you are…  Il n'y a pas de mots pour vous [there are no words for your beauty] he stammered.

            Abby had phoned him earlier in the afternoon to coordinate outfits for the evening.  She had requested he wear red accents to match what she called ‘a cute red dress’.  The dress of mention was of a low cut that went to her mid-thigh.  It was vibrant red, tied on the shoulders, and had a golden zipper up the front, ending between her breasts.  Ducky found himself staring and did nothing to hide that fact.  Not surprisingly, his dick stiffened in his boxers yet again.  Her hair was pulled back to fall just above her shoulders and black heels, thankfully only an inch, rounded out the look.  It made his black tuxedo with red suspenders and matching bowtie pale in comparison.


            “Dit le bel homme! [said the handsome man!]” Abby replied, loving every inch of his suit. “Entrez [enter]!” 




            Ducky rose from the table first, making sure to beat Abby to clearing it after the lovely dinner she had made them.  He placed both platters in the sink and gave them a quick rinse before gathering up the water glasses as well. 


            “As always, you culinary prowess astounds my taste buds Abigail!”  Ducky moved back to the table to help her from her seat. 


            “Thanks Ducky, it’s nothing special…Mamas Étouffée recipe,” she blushed and retrieved her black purse and coat from the closet.


            “Ah yes, well, I do enjoy my food and my women alike…spicy and from New Orleans!”


            The humor was not lost on either of them as they chuckled together.  Ducky grabbed ahold of Abby’s hands, tucking an arm around her waist to dance her around the living room of her apartment, her coat still draped over her arm.  The laughter quickly subsided as a rather hurried kiss developed between them.  Tongues danced in tune with the rest of their bodies, both nipping at the others lips in parting.


            “We had best be on our way, my dear.”  Ducky concluded.  “Did I mention the venue is in Baltimore?” he added with a sly grin, buttoning up his suit coat and retrieving his fedora from the coffee table.


            Abby buttoned up her own coat and grabbed two sets of keys from the hook near the door.  “Mind if I drive?” she said with a grin.  She knew full-well that Ducky wouldn’t refuse her the chance to let her coupe on the loose for the evening.


            “Anything you wish…” he trailed off, holding the door for her and making sure it locked behind them. 




            They hadn’t been on the Baltimore-Washington Parkway more than two miles before Abby’s resolve crumbled.  She simply couldn’t stand not knowing where they were headed.


            “Okay Dr. Mallard…you have me in the car, en route, and I promise not to leave you on the side of the parkway,” she threw him a sidelong glance.  In the small interior of her coupe, they were close enough to make the glance moot.  “Please, please, please, can I know what show we are going to?” she begged.


            Ducky, having relaxed into the seat and put his arm around her while she drove, sniggered at her persistence and enthusiasm.  “Fair enough.  We are headed to the Teatro 101 for a performance of Side Show.”


            “Oooh, I like the sound of that!” she replied, leaning back into Ducky’s half embrace and settling in for the drive.




            The entire performance was spent with Abby leaned into Ducky.  It was the first time she had known him to wear cologne and she quite liked the aroma it added to him.  The two of them proved to be overdressed for the venue, but they didn’t pay any mind to that fact.  They linked together as one, outfits included.  As Ducky had imagined, Abby found the show fun and thanked him profusely for the date as they walked back to her car.


            “Thank you for joining me and allotting me the greatest of companions for such an evening,” He countered.  Stopping outside her car, the late evening air becoming crisper, Ducky wrapped Abby up in a kiss so passionate yet gentle that he even caught himself off guard.  Neither of them were usually much for public affections, but the kiss left them both visibly worked up.  “I must admit, I am a horrible companion for your lipstick, my dear.  It seems I often cause it to smudge.”  He used his always handy kerchief to quickly chase the smudges away before he began to speak again, placing the rouge covered cloth back into his pocket.


            “We have to discuss some…logistical aspects of the remainder of our evening’s activities on the drive home.”  He gauged her reactions, ready to counter them if they seemed to be turning dire.  “Nothing bad, I promise…just things that need to be openly discussed and…agreed upon before such, endeavors ensue.  Would you mind terribly if I drove home?  I know you don’t like others driving it, but I want to give you the best chance to fully devote your thoughts to what we discuss.” He found himself rambling now, greatly hoping she would respond and free him from it.


            Abby removed the keys from her purse and handed them over to him with no fuss.  “Do you think you can handle the left hand drive?” she mused.  Ducky just shook his head and laughed as he took the keys from her.  Sliding in together and closing the doors, Abby added a final instruction to him about the cars operation…”Hey Ducky, Mitch likes it rough.” A sinister smirk curling around her mouth.


            “Mitch?” Ducky inquired, an eyebrow raised in question. 


            “Mitch.” Abby echoed.  “Because Mitch has a hitch and is sometimes a Bitch.”


            Ducky sighed a humorous sigh before he engaged the clutch, brake, and roared the engine to life.  “Okay Mitch…let’s go!”




            Once back on the parkway, Ducky didn’t waste any time delving into the subject at hand. 


            “As you can probably imagine, Abigail…I have researched erotic asphyxiation extensively since your inquiry late last year.”  He kept glancing at her to make sure she was handling the topic well.  “My profession being what it is, I like to believe that I am well aware of the…” he searched for the right words while making sure to not miss any pertinent road signs…”the proper procedures and limitations that must be followed…”  He detailed the precise pressures needed to be effective as well as location application so that the pressure would, hopefully, not leave any bruising or internal damage.


            “Are you okay with everything I have detailed so far? “ 


            “I am,” Abby answered.  “I am aware of the risks involved too.”


            “Good.  Abigail…” Ducky found himself searching for the right words yet again.  Such delicate subjects required being handled with kid gloves.  “I am willing to help experiment with something you might very well enjoy, but I have some concerns and limitations of my own.”  He didn’t have to look over to know that she had been watching, intently, the entire time he had spoken.


            “What?” she asked.  The tone was loving and open, not harsh or doubting. 


            “Well,” he cleared his throat.  “First, I would like a, trial run, of sorts.  A chance to work with pressures and placements without the…distraction, of sexual acts.” He looked over at her, but more for his own need for reassurance than to check on her resolve.  His bowtie suddenly seemed to be fastened much too snugly.


            Abby placed her hand in the middle of his back and traced it back and forth across his shoulder blades.  “Makes sense,” she added calmly.  “Second?”


            “Ah…I guess second would be that, if this turned out to be something pleasurable for you…for us,” he corrected, “I don’t want it to dominate our intimacy.  I certainly wouldn’t ban it from the bedroom, so to speak…I would just ask that it be done…”


            “In moderation?” Abby finished for him. 


            “Yes, in moderation.” He swallowed hard again, feeling suddenly flush.


            “Agreed.  It’s something I have wanted to try, but I only trust you to perform it appropriately.  Even if I do like it, it would be a special, reserved…treat of sorts.  Anything else?”  she started to lace her fingers into the short grey hairs on the nape of his neck. 


             “Just my one limitation.” He looked over at her again, wanting to finish the discussion before he had to navigate surface streets.  “If I cause you to lose consciousness, even for the slightest second, I am done with it.  The line between unconsciousness and death is…well…it’s too narrow a line for me to feel comfortable taking you to it.”


            Abby leaned over and placed a small peck on his cheek before sitting back in her seat.  “Perfectly acceptable limitation.  I cannot imagine the emotional turmoil between a lovers request and the knowledge of how dangerous it can be.”


            Ducky gifted her a smile from the corner of his lips.  He reached over and gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze; Abby smiled back in acknowledgment, and they continued on home. 

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