Rachel Goes Back to School Ch. 02

"Larry?" my wife said in surprise when she spotted the man.

"Uhhh... he told me the sink was clogged," he replied nervously.

"It's not that bad," she stated.

Both looked towards me in confusion, and unsure what to do, I simply said, "Might as well look."

Larry shrugged but Rachel bolted towards the bedroom and closed the door. For a few seconds, we stared at each other, and I knew he now realized I was aware of what had occurred. Regardless, he entered the kitchen and started running the water.

"What are we doing here?" the man suddenly asked after fiddling with the knobs a bit, and then added, "I don't want any trouble."

"Not looking for trouble," I reassured him and then said, "I'm not sure what I'm doing, to be honest. It was an idea... I don't know."

"She was okay with it," he announced, perhaps thinking I felt coercion was involved.

"I know," I acknowledged.

I anticipated the situation would be awkward, but it was proving to be greater than I expected. It strained my nerves and I thought about telling him to go, but there was one part of her description that I wanted to test.

Back and forth my mind went regarding how to raise the subject, and finally, out of frustration, I blurted out, "Did you fuck her?"

"What did she say?" he asked showing some gallantry.

"She said close, but no," I replied.

"That's right," he confirmed.

"So, you never got it in?" I pushed.

"Just a little bit. Then she freaked out," he said.

"But it was in her some?" I fired back.

"Yeah, some," he answered.

My ears started ringing as I realized another man's cock had penetrated my wife. My thoughts went to Rachel and although I felt sympathy towards her predicament, I couldn't accept the deceit. Maybe at first, I thought, but there had been countless times over the past few weeks where she could have admitted the truth.

"Wait a sec," I said and moved towards the bedroom.

I found my wife sitting at the small vanity looking at herself in the mirror and she looked up at my reflection as I stood behind her.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked nervously.

"Rachel, why don't you put on your robe?" I said in a low voice, ignoring her question.

"Are you insane?" she replied with a shocked look.

For some reason, the confusion I felt drove me in a strange direction, and I put my hands on her shoulders, massaged them slowly for a few seconds, and then said, "We want to see you."

"I'm not going to... No way," she answered.

Of course, she was entirely correct to turn down my request as it made no sense. However, her refusal somehow enflamed my emotions and it felt like the temperature in my body had shot up hundreds of degrees. In my unstable state, I couldn't justify her stance knowing that Larry's cock had recently entered her pussy. Fortunately, after a few seconds, my flash reaction departed as quickly as it had appeared. Frightened at how close I had come to saying or doing something crazy, I stepped away and took in some much-needed air.

Finally, I told her, "Okay, Rachel. I'll be out there talking to him."

With that, I departed and she didn't try to stop me. Larry was where I had left him and clearly confused, he furrowed his brow when we made eye contact.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"I don't know... I'd like to hear... the rest," I replied, and then for some reason asked, "You want a beer?"

He nodded so I pulled two bottles from the fridge and we sipped them in silence. I knew he had to be confused about what was happening, and I wouldn't have blamed him if he bolted. In my mind, his continued presence indicated his keen interest in my wife.

"Did you see her after that one night?" I finally asked.

Of course, after the bombshell, I wanted to know his version of their encounter, but I also wanted to address the awkward silence that permeated the room. However, before he could answer, the knob on the bedroom door turned, and there stood my wife in the silk kimono looking very uncomfortable. Like a scene from a movie, in the span of several seconds, each one of us shot glances at the others. Strangely, Larry's face didn't show the eagerness I expected.

"Come here," I said in the best soothing voice I could muster.

Rachel stepped to me and when I took her in my arms, she whispered, "Make him go."

"You look good," I whispered, not ready for it to be over, as I thought there might be more to uncover.

"This is crazy... Really, really, crazy," she answered in a low voice.

"Look, I'm sorry. I hate to do this but I need to go. I have to pick up my daughter from her mother's and I'm already late," the man suddenly declared.

His voice boomed in the small room, startling both of us, but my wife, always gracious, asked, "How old is she?"

"Eight, almost nine," he replied as he moved towards the door.

"That's a sweet age," Rachel said, receiving a smile from him in return.

Then, he was gone and now alone with my wife, I realized that the situation couldn't have turned out worse. I had shown Rachel my dark side, provoking her into a messy situation, and in the end, it was all for nothing. There would be no sexual energy, no exhibition, no awkward interplay, and no discovery about their encounter. Her venom most certainly would appear, but when she turned and entered the bedroom, closing the door behind her, I knew she wanted me to stew in my juices. For a few minutes, I stood silently, feeling sorry for myself, but deciding to get it over with, I headed towards the room.

"I want to be alone," she said.

Reclining on the bed in her long, heavy robe with her back propped by several pillows, she gave me a disgusted look. Ignoring her remark, I sat near her feet and stared at the floor as seconds became minutes.

"Will you talk to me?" I finally asked.

"No," she responded, but seconds later she launched on me, "Why in the world did you do that? You purposefully went and got him and had him come here. Then this fucking robe thing! You've lost your damn mind. I'm going to burn the stupid thing."

Without question, I was guilty of everything she claimed and my only possible defense was the information the man shared about his penetration. My wife had lied to me on a very important subject, but I wasn't certain whether I should let her know I was aware, so I remained silent as she huffed. For the next few minutes, I let her unload on me, but finally, I reached my limit and when she paused, I took the offensive.

"Rachel, he told me he penetrated you... He put his cock in you," I said calmly.

Instantly, a frightened look filled her face and her body started to rise, before settling back. Her eyes told me the accusation was true, but it took a little longer before she could speak.

"No, he didn't" she declared.

"Rachel..." I whispered.

"It's your fault! You did all the damn pushing! You made me! I didn't want to do all these stupid things, but you made me!" she yelled as she began to cry, and then she added, "Just get out."

Deciding she needed time to recover, I left the room and found my beer. For the next hour, I sat silently on the couch and contemplated all that had occurred. I realized my attempt to get Larry and her together had been stupid and I wish I had fought back my lustful thoughts, but other than that, the only element I found disturbing was her deceit. Everything else had been fun and helped put our sex life in overdrive. Now, I thought, I would likely lose the playfulness she had built as her guilt would act as an anchor.

Rachel emerged from the room wearing jeans and a simple top, looked at me and said, "I'm going out. Give me your keys."

"I want to go," I said and when she didn't respond, I added, "C'mon honey..."

She rolled her eyes and then with a nod consented. I jumped up and followed her as she walked briskly towards the SUV, ignoring my presence. However, once we pulled away, she started on me again.

"You're a fucking asshole," she stated.

The fact that she had dropped an "f" bomb twice in the last few hours wasn't lost on me as I could count all the times I had heard the word leave her mouth on one hand.

"I'm sorry," I replied, wanting her anger to be gone before we arrived in a public setting.

"For what? What do you think you're sorry for?" she demanded.

I pulled into a parking lot, stopped the vehicle, and after a deep breath, said, "Rachel, I'm sorry for all the things that have happened since you started school. It's your thing and I've horned in on things where I shouldn't have. I'm sorry about the robe, and the questions about flirting, and the phone sex and the shaving but especially about all the things with the maintenance man. I pushed my beautiful wife who I love dearly into a bad situation and I want her back. Safe and happy."

She stared at me with an expression I couldn't decipher and just when I thought I needed to say more, she stated, "Go to the bar next to the shopping area. I need a drink."

A few minutes later, seated at a small table in the crowded room, Rachel, normally a wine drinker surprised me when she ordered a whiskey and soda. With a buzz of people close by, it made it impossible to talk so we sat mostly in silence and over the next hour went through several rounds. Finally, the crowd began to thin, and whether it was that or the effects of the alcohol, Rachel caught my eye and I knew something was coming.

"Asshole," she said.

I sensed her words meant she wanted to talk, but unsure, I replied, "I know."

More silence ensued before she asked, "What did you expect? What did you think was going to happen?"

"I don't know. It was stupid," I responded.

"Yes, you do know and your evasiveness it patronizing," she countered.

I didn't want to get into it at that moment but knowing I had no choice, I answered, "When he told me... I guess I kind of lost it."

"So, one mistake... one stupid action leads to another? Is that what you wanted? Us doing it?" she pushed.

"I told you I lost it," I replied defensively.

"But it's what you expected?" she replied.

"Rachel, I lost it," I said again.

"A pretty big thing to lose," she answered sarcastically.

I should have left well enough alone, but tired of being the punching bag, I replied, "We haven't talked about your lying."

Fire came to her eyes, and for a moment I thought there might be a scene, but she took a deep breath, and then said, "I wanted some dignity."

Somehow, someway, her answer made me feel very small, and with that we returned to our drinking, consuming two more rounds before we made the short drive back to the condo. She let me hold her hand as we walked from the vehicle, and once inside, I flopped onto the couch while she disappeared into the bedroom. I felt quite drunk and knew my wife must be feeling similarly, so I wondered if I would see her again that evening. However, just a few minutes later she appeared in her long robe.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Fine," she answered, but I could tell something was on her mind, and she soon said, "Thank you for the things you said in the car."

"Come here," I said and patted the spot next to me.

Rachel slid next to me without protest, and I took her hand and held it tightly in mine. I gave her some time to settle, and then turned and found her lips and was thrilled when she returned the kiss. One led to another and soon we locked in a passionate embrace that lasted a long time.

"How long am I in the doghouse?" I asked, hoping to put us on a path to resolution.

"Forever and a day," she answered, but when she started giggling, I knew things would be okay.

"Something to look forward to," I replied, joining her laughter.

I kissed her again, and she got a serious expression and asked, "How about you? Are you going to forgive the... you know?"

"Rachel, if you would have just told me... I mean I would have been really surprised, but I would be over it. But not telling me... that hurt," I explained.

"I know but it was just a little... " she started.

"Rachel?" I said in a challenging voice.

"Okay... I feel so ashamed," she whimpered.

Then, recalling my question to the man about any follow-on actions, I asked, "Did anything happen after that one encounter. The next week?"

Confident that she would be honest since she couldn't be certain what Larry confided, I was pleased when she answered, "No. He tried to talk to me those times I told you about and then stopped."

"Let's go to bed," I suggested.

She nodded and after entering the room she dropped her robe revealing her t-shirt and panties. When she saw me looking, an impish smile appeared on her face.

"What am I supposed to wear?" she asked with a slight slur.

My mind churned for several seconds as I thought about the ramifications, and then replied, "Nothing... you know that."

Her body stiffened and she let out a little gasp but her hands started to move and soon she was naked. We climbed into bed and she let me pull her close, but I kept my hands still.

"This place really does emit some kind of sexual force," she whispered.

"Yeah... I know," I responded.

"How do we stop it?" she asked.

"We need to tune it, not stop it," I told her.

"Tune it? What about all the things you said in the car?" she asked but I could tell she was being playful.

"Some things are okay," I answered.

"Like what?" she pressed.

"The sleeping naked, the shaving, the phone play," I replied.

"I thought you wanted to stop? In the car you said so," she responded as I felt her butt wiggle.

"I know I did, but I really like those things," I said and couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Then, what's not okay?" she asked.

I rose and turned her body so I was looking down at her and said in a stern voice, "When you don't tell me things."

At first, the look in her eyes made me nervous, but suddenly I felt her hand searching for my dick and when she found it, she tugged until she had me between her legs. She worked the head over her slit several times and then pulled me inside as she let loose with a deep sigh. I remained still for a moment and then started to rock slowly as I felt we were going to share more.

"So, you want to stay in my deal," she whispered.

"Yes," I said.

"Why should I let you?" she asked and pulled my head down for a kiss.

When we broke, I smiled down at her and said, "Because you like it, too."

"What! No, I don't," she declared.

"Okay," I said as I started to move faster.

She didn't respond for a few seconds, and then she asked, "What about the robe?"

"That's up to you, sweetie," I whispered.

With that our attention turned to our lovemaking and the only sound came from our mutual sighs of pleasure. I felt Rachel was enjoying the sex, but at the same time, she didn't seem to be progressing. Something remained on her mind, which was understandable, and although curious, I decided to let her communicate it when she was ready. The time came much sooner than I expected.

"Stop for a second," she asked and when I had become still, she said, "You would have really let him... tonight."

"I don't know... " I started before she interrupted.

"And in bed, at home, when you got... real excited..." she said, recalling the evening after her encounter with the maintenance man.

"What about it?" I asked although I knew where she was going.

"I want you to look me in the eye and admit it. You want me to be with him... do it with him," she said.

The way she stared at me told me she already had her answer, but I felt obligated to speak, so I said, "Honey, I don't know. I've thought about it like I told you and when I get excited it likes a big wave that hits me and then it goes away," I explained.

"You were excited tonight. Learning about him being in me made you excited. I thought you were mad, but you were really excited," she replied, connecting the dots.

"Maybe..." I said, now feeling very awkward.

"Did you want me to?" she pressed.

Knowing there was no real way out, I nodded my head, and said, "Yeah..."

Even though she already knew the truth, my admission caused her to inhale deeply, but moments later I felt her hips roll just a little. It prodded me to start moving and as I gently rocked, she stared up at me with an expression I couldn't decipher.

Without warning, she asked, "I can't do that. It's too... terrifying. It was hard to stop."

During Rachel's recovery from her encounter with Larry, she stated several times that she was ashamed about how he made her body respond, and I felt certain that's what she now meant. Once again, I stopped my efforts and looked down into her troubled face.

"Rachel, just because I have the thoughts and urges, doesn't mean anything has to happen. Just relax," I said.

She nodded and gave me a small smile, and knowing there was no reason to continue, I moved to her side. I stroked her hair in silence, thinking we would drift to sleep, so when she spoke, it surprised me.

"You know... I think I told you before. I didn't learn to swim until I was thirteen... almost fourteen," she whispered.

"Yes," I replied, unsure where she intended to go.

"My dad... he took me to the deep end and had me hold on to the edge. Then, he told me to let go and try and stay up," she explained in a slow cadence. I remained silent, and a few seconds later, she continued, "I was so scared, but I finally let go and I thrashed in the water for a few seconds before I could grab the edge again."

"Your dad was being kind of mean," I offered.

"Yeah... I did it a couple of times, and then he let me rest. I remember as I held on to the side, that I was still scared but it was... exciting, too. I tried a few more times and my dad didn't have to push as hard," she said.

The analogy came into sharp focus, but I always thought her dad was a bit of a jerk and didn't like the comparison, so I replied, "Rachel, I'm not your dad."

She didn't respond, remaining quiet for a few seconds before she continued, "That night... when I was in bed. I got excited thinking about it... sexually excited."

"At thirteen?" I asked.

She giggled a little and then responded, "I matured early."

"So, what are you saying?" I asked.

"I'm saying that you took me to the deep end and made me let go and... it was terrifying but exciting, too," she explained, and then after a deep breath, she added, "And, you did it again tonight."

"Did it make you excited? Tonight, I mean," I asked, and when her nod confirmed it, I followed with, "Were you terrified?"

"Completely," she whispered.

I didn't respond immediately as I tried to determine the ramifications of her message, but finally, I asked, "Are you more excited or scared?"

"I don't know... I really don't," she responded, and after a short pause, she added, "I... I think this condo does something to both of us."

"No, sweetie. The condo just provides the opportunity," I answered, as I pulled her closer.

I thought about our prior discussions and realized she hadn't mentioned shame. Indeed, excitement seemed more prevalent, and as I slowly drifted off, I realized we were like a pinball, bouncing madly between bumpers and occasionally striking a bell.

After that evening, Rachel became even more forthcoming about male attention which indicated to me that our discussions had increased her comfort. Previously, she might mention an approach, particularly if I pressed, but usually tried to get through the description with minimum detail. Now, she seemed almost eager to tell me about someone's attempt and would often provide a running account of the exchange.

"Josh tried again. He invited me to his apartment," she announced.

"What did you tell him?" I teased.

"Hmmm... I don't know. Guess," she countered.

"Has Kott tried anything?" I asked, ignoring her attempt.

"He's less verbal. More of an eye contact man," she explained.