Grace's Covert Humiliation Ch. 02

In my office, I was enjoying the fresh air, the aromatic spring air wafting gently through the two windows. I was evaluating the results from an intriguing set of experiments from my lab. One of my students had generated interesting results on fundamental aspects of the mechanics of cell division. I was now analyzing her data using a suite of applicable programs.

"I'm so glad that Kylie, turned out well." I heard Anneline say to Grace.

"Yes, she's perfect. She has the best genes." Grace responded, using a phrase virtually identical to that which I heard her use a few months before while she was nursing Kylie.

"I have to admit, I was concerned." My mother-in-law rejoined.

"Really? Why?" My wife asked.

"Well, obviously you come from high quality people. There's the upper-class Dutch ancestry on my side, and the high achievement that runs in our family as an extension. And your dad is half British and half Danish. He and his family have been extremely successful as well."

Anneline is originally from South Africa, and Grace's dad is from Australia. They had met in South Africa and had moved to the U.S. so that my father-in-law could pursue his successful business ventures here. As a consequent of his success the family is wealthy; Grace and her sister had grown up in an affluent household on the East Coast.

"You know I had reservations about Sam when the two of you decided to get married. I thought he might be too old for you; although seven years isn't an extraordinary difference in age, at the time I worried that it could be. And he was divorced. Worst of all, his parents are both so ordinary and unaccomplished. I know that Sam is of English, Irish and Scotch heritage, which is fine. But I still wonder about Sam's family and about his stock. I was concerned that you were marrying beneath you. To be honest, I still think you have. I understand that Sam is successful, so I know that counts for something. But still..."

Although she consistently projected herself imperiously, I had never heard Anneline articulate anything explicitly objectionable about me and my family. I'm not naïve - I know a basic human need is for all individuals to think they are exceptional rather than ordinary. However, I thought our society had dispensed with royalty and nobility a long time ago. Anneline apparently felt comfortable being open and expressing her viewpoint in front of Grace. She obviously didn't know that I could hear their conversation. I was mildly shocked, nonetheless.

"Yes, mom, I know. And I agree with you," Grace responded. "At least about the high-quality genes. I wasn't 100% sure about Sam either, at first, but I'm convinced that's he is indeed the right kind of "stock," as you like to say. In any case, our daughter, Kylie, is proof of that."

I already knew about my wife's view on superior genes and genetic networks, but I had still expected her to mount a robust defense of me and my family. Instead she had both implicitly and directly concurred with her mother, albeit with the caveat that I had at least minimally met a crucial genetic threshold.

My mind turned to the fact that Grace had been secretly impregnated by someone about forty years older than her (and more than fifteen years older than her mother!), that she carried the old man's baby to term, had nursed the old man's baby and was now enthusiastically raising his child. Would Anneline have thought that the old man was of suitable stock? Would she think that someone forty years older than Grace was too old to serve as a stud for her daughter? I definitively knew the answer to these questions. I was perversely aroused.

...

"I really wish you wouldn't keep hiring Kyle to work on our house," Grace stated. "You know I don't like him. He makes me uncomfortable."

"He really is very inexpensive compared to the other people we've had here, and he does exceptional work," I responded. "We haven't had much done on the house the past year since we've been busy with Kylie, I thought we should get started again."

"I was out in front on the front porch reading and had Kylie in the play pen next to me, Grace said. "I didn't realize Kyle's dad was out there in the truck. He came up and started talking to me. I was startled."

"That's unusual. He typically stays in the truck," I responded.

"I know. He congratulated me on Kylie and said he hadn't realized that I had a baby. He started asking nosy about when she was born. He told me the baby reminded him of Kyle and his other kids when they were little. Can you imagine?" she frowned. "His kids would never have been anywhere near the caliber and potential of Kylie.

"What bothered me even more was that he was overtly ogling me the entire time he was talking to me. He kept looking at my crotch and didn't even try to be discreet about it. He's such a creep!"

I flashbacked to Kyle's dad in the bedroom with my unaware wife the previous year. As he was fucking her, looking down at her ass, which was raised in doggy position, her legs spread wide, I remembered him saying, "You'll have to live the rest of your life with the fact that you've been filled with my thick cum. Whenever I see you, I'll think of your pussy lips tugging on my cock."

No wonder the old man was leering at Grace. My cock involuntarily starting to respond as I thought about it.

Grace continued, "He tried to compliment me on "bouncing back" after being pregnant. He actually asked me if I was planning on having another baby. What an inappropriate and personal question to receive from such a lowlife."

...

During several visits to my in-laws, I had routinely procured Halcion tablets from a prescription filled for Anneline from a med container in their bathroom. In looking into contraindications for the med there were the expected warnings for sleeping pills, such as not mixing with alcohol or operating machinery during use. I had also learned that the way the drug works is by binding to GABA receptors on axons of brain cells, inhibiting neuronal synapse function. Halcion is also known to impair memory in a significant proportion of people, and there are anecdotal instances where people had sleepwalked, driven cars and had sex while taking the drug.

Regardless, of all this information, predicting any individual's response to any medication is far from certain.

I watched Grace as we sipped our drinks in the back yard. "It's brilliant having my parents so close by, and that they're willing to watch Kylie for a night or two." My wife was unbearably fetching, reclining in her knee-length blue dress.

"Yes," I agreed. I wasn't sure whether having your parents nearby would work out, but that's certainly one advantage." I was watching for telltale hints that the Halcion might be taking effect -- slightly slurred repetitive speech, long empty pauses, a bit of giddiness, slightly drooping eyelids. Grace's parents were taking care of Kylie for two nights.

In the past, I had used three crushed tablets to spike her drinks, which was three times the amount recommended as a sleep aid. The three tablets would completely put Grace under for several hours, but the drug apparently had a relatively short half-life and would clear from her system by morning. She had no trouble waking at her usual time. This evening I backed off to one and a half tablets, which I had crushed prior to adding to my wife's drink. I was interested to see how this reduced dose would work. I thought it would likely be enough.

We were again discussing some of the work Grace had been doing with her lab's model system on nematodes. "So the students in your lab are busy making mutations in genes that affect movement, right?" I asked, knowing that the answer would be yes, followed by a detailed update.

Grace was quiet for a full thirty seconds. "Our nemo toads are cloud fish," she giggled. "Cloud fish are all "Nemos", right?" she laughed. "Wait, clown, not cloud, I mean," her enchanting blue/grey eyes starting to droop.

"Gee, I'm so relaxed and sleepy."

I led her up to our bedroom. "Let me help you get undressed," I said.

"Okay Sam. But are you wanting why...?" She asked as I started to help get her undressed. "My dress likes to show off me," she giggled. "When it's on I can see right through the mirror." Her usual effortless ability to compose well-formed coherent sentences was beginning to escape her. After her dress was off, my wife lay down on the bed and immediately fell asleep.

I looked at my wife in her pink bra and panties. Her flat stomach was amazingly well toned, her symmetrical hip bones protruding slightly near the top of her panties. "Hey, Grace, wake up. I want to take a picture of you in your underwear," I requested, shaking her gently.

"Mm. Okay," she responded, eyes remaining closed. I snapped off a couple pictures.

I undid the clasp on her bra, removed it completely and pulled off her panties, revealing the neatly trimmed triangle of her pubic hair. Her mons projected upward tantalizingly. I rolled her over onto her left side so that she was facing me, placing her right hand over her left breast, and her right foot on the bed so that her knee was up. In this position, her mons, and her outer labial lips with their bisecting slit were now exposed. She looked as though she were posing for a photoshoot.

"Grace, just a couple more pictures," I said. "But please open your eyes."

"Wha? Oh. Do I ha'. My eyes?"

"Yes, please open them then you can go back to sleep."

Her eyes slowly opened most of the way revealing a little more than half of her blue/grey irises.

"Ok, now smile."

As she weakly smiled, I shot a few more pictures in rapid succession. My wife immediately fell back to sleep.

Several of the pictures were outstanding. Here was my wife with a hint of a smile, her eyes with a transient sultry expression. Her lovely right breast and upright nipple completely exposed as she covered her left. Narrow waist curving elegantly to her hips, toned athletic legs in a natural pose that displayed the gentle fold of her vulva, with the tip of her clit just visible.

I set my camera aside, sat next to my wife and rolled her fully onto her back. Her nipples hardened and rose as I sucked and licked them. Using a finger to trace the outside of her vulva, I parted her inner lips and inserted two fingers. I slowly moved my fingers in and out of my wife while simultaneously massaging, unmasking and stimulating her clitoris. Grace's clit became notably firmer. She remained asleep but her breath came more rapidly.

Lifting her legs over my shoulders, I nearly doubled her over, placed the head of my penis at her entrance and pushed first gently then all the way in. "Ung. Wha?" Grace mumbled, though her eyes remained closed.

"What are you trying to say, baby?" I asked her.

"Max?" She asked. Max is the name of Grace's previous boyfriend, the guy she was seeing before she met me.

"Yes," I said. Curious of what she was dreaming about and what her response might be.

"Okay then."

I started pumping in and out of her more vigorously. I was pissed off, but simultaneously amused, that her subconscious had resurrected an old boyfriend instead of me. My ego was getting the better of me.

Pulling out of her, I grasped Grace at her armpits and lifted her into partial sitting position against the headboard. Now straddling my wife I placed my cock, wet with her fluid, against her lips.

"Grace, please suck me," I said softly in her ear.

"Max," she repeated.

My wife slowly took me into her mouth and started to swirl her tongue. I inserted and withdrew my penis into and part way out of her mouth, luxuriating in the feeling of her lips and tongue stimulating and swelling my cock. I felt my cock expand further. I came hard in Grace's mouth. She swallowed two or three times in response. I pulled out. A narrow strand of cum ran from the right corner of her mouth down to her chin, formed an elongating, round-tipped stalactite of semen that eventually reached her chest, creating a small pool near the top of her right breast.

"M-Max," she sighed, smiling slightly.

.....

Since I had spiked my wife's drink with a reduced amount of drug the previous evening, I was unsure, and a bit apprehensive, about what she might recall from the previous evening. Grace had clearly not been all the way out as she had said several words and partially responded to some prompts from me.

However, she came down the stairs as usual. "Good morning, Sam. I slept so well last night. Thanks for letting me sleep in. It was nice not having to get up with Kylie."

Actually, it was only 7:30, but I suppose that qualifies as sleeping in if you're used to getting up at 6 AM with a one-year-old.

"You mentioned something about Max in your sleep last night," I said. It would have been smarter for me not to risk triggering her memory about last night, but I couldn't help myself. I was still a little jealous.

"Max?" she asked, her face blushing slightly. "That's odd. I haven't thought about him in a long time. You never had anything to worry about with him, Sam. Even if I hadn't met you, I would have broken it off with him after a time."

...

After finishing up an extended squash match against one of my friends at the university gym, I waited for Grace outside a glassed-in exercise studio where she was finishing up a HIIT class. My wife was wearing black, yellow-trimmed, capri-length form-fitting leggings and a matching top. The class was currently in the process of leaping from pushup position with hands on an exercise bench, to crouching position atop the bench, then jumping from crouch position high off the back of the bench, before dropping to resume pushup position. Grace was able to do this repetitive dynamic move with relative ease. I'm in good shape but I'm not confident I would have been able to do the move. The class was mostly composed of women, but one of the few guys was positioned directly behind my wife. In my mind I looked at the way Grace would be presenting herself to this 20-something year old man. Nicely displayed ass in crouch position on the bench, long toned legs extending on the leap, a hint of the shape of her outer labial lips between the triangular space of her legs before returning to the push-up sprawl position.

I turned once again to self-reflection trying to understand my motivations and desires. I had already faced the fact that my sexual anomaly, candaulism, had become increasingly important for achieving maximal sexual arousal. I was now so familiar with this deviant aspect of my personality that it no longer seemed like an anomaly. Instead it seemed something that was a natural part of my being. To satisfy my need, I had crossed boundaries that I knew should never have been explored and had subjected my unsuspecting wife to an escalating series of encounters.

Of all the encounters I had engineered, her illicit coupling with Kyle's dad educed the highest sexual intensity for me. She now had a baby caused by the co-mingling of her genes with those of the old man. She would have been at the height of humiliation had she known. However, since she didn't know, this further augmented my arousal. I was simultaneously compelled and sickened as I considered trying to achieve a sequel.

...

"Hey Kyle, how's the ceiling coming along?" I had hired Kyle to open the ceiling of my office so that the height of the room was extended to the rafters. He had taken out the lower ceiling. I could tell the new version would look modern and spacious.

"I'm almost done," he replied. "Just have to put in the insulation then the drywall. We're planning on getting this done soon. Look okay to you?"

"Yes. I'm looking forward to seeing the finished product. Looks great so far," I said.

"Hey, how's your dad doing?" I asked. There were several things I wanted to learn. I really was curious. I was also trying to subtly probe Kyle on whether his dad had said anything about that evening with Grace. From past conversations, I consistently had the impression that Kyle's dad had not told Kyle or, if he had, that Kyle was tight lipped about it with me. Finally, and most importantly, I wanted to find an excuse for Kyle to send his dad over so that I could execute my next plan.

"He's doing ok, I guess, for a seventy-three-year-old. He's still kind of bored though since he retired. I usually bring him along with me to my job sites so I can keep him company," Kyle replied.

I hadn't realized Kyle's dad was quite that old. That would make him forty-three years older than Grace!

Kyle said hesitantly. "My dad told me he probably shouldn't come along with me to your house. He thinks your wife doesn't like him."

"Oh, that's too bad. I think Grace is just usually preoccupied," I responded, even though I knew with certainty that my wife strongly disliked having both Kyle and his dad at our house.

"Maybe I can find a job or two for your dad to do, if he's bored," I said.

Kyle replied, "That's generous of you, but only if there's really something that needs doing. I'll see if my dad might be up for it."

"You mentioned previously that your dad was good at plumbing. I have a couple small jobs I think he can manage if he's interested."

...

"Thanks, man, that looks great." While Grace was on campus teaching her class that afternoon, I had Kyle's dad replace the shower heads in both the upstairs and downstairs bathroom with modern rain shower heads. Grace had previously requested this modification, though not from Kyle, and certainly not from his dad.

"No problem, Sam. I enjoyed having some work. These should work well but if you have any problem just let me know. I wish your wife had been here. I would have liked seeing her. Say, "hi" to her for me."

"I'm sure the shower heads will work fine." (Actually, I was sure one of them would not work fine later this evening.) "And, yes, I'll say "hi" to Grace from you."

After Kyle's dad departed, I retrieved an adjustable wrench from my workbench. In the upstairs bathroom, I loosened the nut connecting the shower head from the arm protruding from the wall. I removed the plastic O-ring, cut it with some scissors, and reassembled the shower head housing. As expected, turning on the shower caused a noticeable leak from around the nut.

Once again, it was time for me to ride the emotional windmill, simultaneously aroused and sickened in contemplating a repeat rendezvous of Grace with Kyle's dad.

My wife had told me she wanted to try for a second child, and I had said I would try. As today was day fourteen in her monthly cycle it was likely that she would be in the center of her fertile window. My wife was going to pick up Kylie and drop her off with my in-laws for the night. We were going to try.

...

"Sam, I'm so excited about the idea of Kylie having a brother or sister. Let's start right now," Grace exclaimed as she came in through the door. Her face glowing, blue/grey eyes bright with enthusiasm. She was wearing her short black dress, which both showed off her slim athletic figure and accentuated her exposed toned legs. She came over and kissed me. As she proceeded around behind me. I could feel her breasts on my back as she hugged me. She reached around to fondle my penis gently but aggressively with one hand and playfully cup my testicles with the other. My cock immediately responded.

"Wow. You are such a turn on. I know this will sound strange coming from me, but maybe we should take it a little slower," I replied. I was indeed aroused by this direct approach from her. I was usually the impatient one.

"We have all evening. While I was waiting for you, I put together a charcuterie board with your favorite kinds of French cheese and Tuscan salumi. And I just opened a bottle of that Bordeaux that you like," I said.

"Well I guess we do have all evening. We don't have to be in such a rush," she agreed.