Trading my wife for rent

A/N: This story is being written as a commission for Hedgar86. If you're interested in having your own chapters or your own stories commissioned, please send me a message.

The economy wasn't great. Everyone knew it, it was all over the news, and you couldn't avoid hearing stories about people losing their jobs and homes, but it didn't really make sense until it happened to us. For the longest time, we thought my wife's job was the stable one. I picked up riskier, better paying freelance work since we figured that we would always have her job to fall back on. However, when company layoffs hit, she, along with hundreds of others, lost their jobs.

With only a week left in our apartment before we were going to be kicked out, and no job prospects on the line, we sat at the dinner table in silence. I looked across the table at the woman I made my wife, and thought about all the good times we've had together. I met Abigail when we were kids in first grade and we have been inseparable ever since, and started dating each other as soon as we both realized that we care about each other more than just as friends. We both agreed to wait until marriage to take each others' virginities, but how quickly she blossomed into the gorgeous curvy woman sitting across from me did make me regret that, somewhat.

"What are we going to do?" Abby asks in a soft voice, breaking the silence and snapping me out of memory lane. Her soft, golden hair frames her pretty face and her bright green eyes, beautiful even in her sadness.

I reach across the table to hold her hand. "I don't know. All I know is that we will do it together." She manages to give me a small smile, though it doesn't last long. Suddenly, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I see a text from a friend, George, that we both knew from high school, though it's been a while since we've spoken. He wants to meet up for dinner. I text back that it's not a good time, but he insists. He was always like that, even back then. Willful and headstrong, he rarely took no for an answer. The only person I can remember successfully denying him was Abigail turning him down, no matter how much he flirted with her. I sigh and put down the phone. "George from high school wants to have dinner tonight. I tried to say no, but..."

"I know how he is. Maybe it'll be good though. It might ne nice to catch up with an old friend. It certainly sounds better than moping around here." Ever the optimist, it seems like the prospect of dinner is getting her out of the rut she's been stuck in, at least partially. "I'll go get ready now!" I follow her into the room to get my own clothes, my cock growing to its full four inch length when I watch her undress. She was a late bloomer, but man did she bloom. She has curves most women would kill for and she carries them with an easy grace. All too quickly, she is dressed, putting on a simple, but form fitting dress that shows just a bit of cleavage from her ample bosom. "Oh, I hope I'm not overdressed. Where are we meeting for dinner?"