A Professional Collaboration Ch. 04

Somehow, in that moment, we both understood that there was really nothing more to say. We watched each other shyly as we dressed. She pulled baggy sweats out of her bag and put them on in place of her fetching sundress. Given the amount of semen that was now beginning to seep out of her, it was clear that the crotch would be soaked through long before she got to the salon, but she didn't seem to care. She hesitated for a moment, and approached again to give me a parting kiss on the cheek; then turned, unlocked the door, and departed.

* * * * *

I had pumped so much cum into Jen, so high up inside her, that I really did have no doubts that I'd impregnated her. In fact, I it seemed quite possible she was already pregnant from the first time we'd fucked, and that our whole second meeting had only happened so that she could have the full James Miller experience.

At any rate, I was pretty sure she was with child now; and if so, then part of me wished I hadn't given of myself quite so freely, or that I wasn't quite so potent. Her animal self had clearly loved being fucked by me, and our emotional connection by the end of our last tete-a-tete had been legitimate and intense. Yet even so, I knew that, in her mind, our relations were still entirely predicated on their logical necessity. Once she knew for sure that she was pregnant, I had little doubt that her rational and ethical self would bar her from further dalliances with me, however much a part of her might have preferred them to continue. And it did seem a shame for our assignations to come to an end so soon—I felt I was just getting to know Jen's body, and my cock dearly wanted to fuck her again.

Well, one's dick can't always get its own way. As the weeks sped by, I saw Jen around campus about as often as ever. Every time we ran into each other, I harbored the secret hope that she would pull me aside to plan a third tryst; but she never did request my special services. Whether I was right about the outcome of our union or not, it appeared that the collaboration was at an end.

And, really, that may have all been for the best. Maisie had finally exorcised the monsters from under her own bed, and Taylor and I celebrated her departure from ours with some very hot, very uninhibited, very toddler-free intercourse. My better self knew that I couldn't let thoughts of Jen distract me from the glaring need to rebuild the intimacy of my own marriage. And then, too, I consoled myself, there were always the videos I'd recorded. If my mental images of Jen's naked body ever started to dim, I'd always be able to pull those out and savor the scenes I'd captured...

* * * * *

Weeks turned into months. Somewhat less than a year after I fucked Jennifer in my office, it was time again for the department's annual fall-kickoff potluck. This was a reliably dreary affair, featuring bored spouses, bratty kids, too many carbs, and bad wine in plastic cups. Still, this go-round was brightened by an appearance from Jen, the department's new mom, whom I hadn't seen all summer.

Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks flushed as she passed around little Tyler: a sleepy bundle still only a couple of months old, and the darling of every female present. Jen and Pete were clearly still caught up in the rush of new-parenthood, and overflowing with pride. I'd heard that Jen would be able to resume teaching in the fall, on a reduced schedule at first and back to full-time in the spring, because Pete had quit his job and would be taking over the primary parenting duties. It looked like her life plan was shaping up nicely.

When it was my turn to dandle Tyler, I had to admit to some pride of my own as I admired his well-formed hands and face. Pete must have noticed me scrutinizing the infant's delicate little features. "He's got my nose for sure," Pete pronounced, with conviction. "I know it's hard to tell with babies, but if you look close you can see it."

"Yep, he's a chip off the ol' block," I smiled amiably.

I passed the babe along, but Pete remained by my side; and after a moment he turned to me with a conspiratorial air. It seemed that, like his wife, the man found me a congenial sounding board. "Jen says you've been a good friend to her in the department. Helped her get promoted. I really appreciate that... we both do... And with new baby expenses, that raise doesn't hurt either!"

"Well, we're fortunate to have her on the faculty," I replied, pleasantly neutral. "She's a great scholar, and the recognition is well-earned."

"Oh, I know, she's a genius. But still, it's good to have friends... You probably know that she's had some tough breaks here and there. You heard about her mom and the cancer and all that? God, that was a bad time. And then—get this—before Jen got pregnant, we had doctors telling us that we wouldn't even be able to conceive. Can you believe that? I'm just glad we didn't listen to those so-called 'medical experts!'"

"Yeah," I agreed, "sometimes you have to ignore your head and just go with your balls."

He nodded agreeably, before excusing himself to change Tyler's diaper.

* * * * *

In the years since, Jennifer and I have remained close friends and colleagues. I haven't seen her for the last several months, though—Jen's been away on a research sabbatical, and took the whole family with her. But we do stay in touch.

Life has gone on in her absence, of course. At work, I think I've lined up enough support to secure the endowed chair I've been eyeing (we'll see when the vote is taken). At home, the climate has continued to improve—especially since both kids are in school now. Taylor and I have made a lot of progress in digging out of our slump, although we still have a ways to go.

Jen has rarely had email access while she's been gone, (so primitive!) so the main way I've been able to keep tabs on her is via the postcards she sends every month or two—short, friendly dispatches, festooned with foreign postage, that provide the latest bulletins on their travels and her studies. Usually, when one of these arrives, I find a quiet moment to cue up my videos of her and jerk off.

Oh, did I mention that? My videos came out tremendously well, better than I possibly could have expected. Modern technology can be a glorious thing when it works. I spliced together a highlight reel from the various angles—Jen baring her breasts to me at last; Jen kneeling before me, my cock wedged in her mouth while she cradles my balls; Jen laying naked on the table, legs spread wide, cunt splayed open, as my cock drills its way up inside her; and finally, at the end, my cock emerging from her hole, trailing a faint line of cum. (Tyler's first picture, I guess you could say.) I find that it never gets old. You might think, for example, that after a while a person might tire of watching Jen's breasts jiggle as she lies on the table, my cock plowing into her. Yet somehow their rhythmic bouncing has not once failed to mesmerize me.

I received a short note from Jen just last week, in fact. She's been doing some fascinating research on traditional agrarian communities, and was excited to share the highlights. She suggested we collaborate on aspects of the work when she returns to campus in the fall. I think there might very well be a co-authored paper in it. Meanwhile, at a personal level it sounds like they'll be happy to be home—Pete enjoyed the exotic life for a while, but within a few months of trying to acclimate to foreign cultures and languages, toddler in tow, he had grown weary of it all. Jen said he may try to find a part-time IT gig after they return, just to keep his skills sharp.

She ended the card with a quick update about little Tyler, who is four now (how time flies!):

"Tyler's favorite things these days are airplanes and Bob the Builder. Thank God Pete downloaded a bunch of videos, since we can't get streaming here. Tyler also spends a lot of time drawing. Oh, and I know you'll get a kick out of this. He's begun to talk constantly about wanting a baby sister or brother. He says he doesn't care which.

See you soon!

Jen"

END