Rachel Goes Back to School Ch. 03

"Okay..." I replied cringing at the thought of having to explain the reality.

For the next week, I remained in turmoil thinking about the doctor. Multiple times, I picked up my phone to call for an appointment, but on each occasion, I let it go. I had almost decided to share my knowledge with Rachel, to get her up to speed with me before seeing the urologist again when something occurred that pushed the issue to the background.

Sitting on the sofa watching a baseball game, I saw in my peripheral vision Rachel bolting down the hallway with her phone in hand. Almost an hour elapsed before she returned to the kitchen so I rose and when to check on her.

"What's up?" I asked, giving her a questioning look.

"Nothing," she responded, clearly trying to ignore me.

"Rachel...tell me," I demanded.

She stopped what she was doing, took a moment to collect herself, and then said, "Larry was at the condo. They were doing extermination work in the whole building."

"Don't they have outside services to do that?" I asked.

"I don't know," she responded, annoyed by my question.

"How do you know? She told you?" I probed.

"She mentioned she saw him and started saying again how cute he was. I called him and asked what was going on. He tried to be clever and got me mad," she explained.

"How did he do that?" I asked, putting my hand on her shoulder to try and calm her.

"I told him he promised to stay away. He said he had a job to do and that I should talk to her about being flirty," she said.

"You need to talk to her...I mean how do you do that?" I asked.

"I don't know... I don't know how to bring up the subject without revealing that Larry told me," she answered, and before I could speak, she added, "I need to go there and spend some time with her. See if I can get her to open up."

"Okay, I agree. When do you want to go?" I asked.

"Now? I mean my heads all in it so I rather address it," she said.

"You won't get there until around nine," I reminded her.

"I know...it's okay," she responded.

Rachel quickly packed a bag and left leaving me to contemplate the discussion with our daughter. When I was her age, I would have been aghast to have a conversation with my parents on details of my sexual life, but thought maybe mother and daughters were different. A little past nine she called me to let me know she had arrived and explained she had stopped and bought several bottles of wine along the way. I wished her luck and as soon as the call ended, I poured myself a bourbon on the rocks.

The following morning, she called me early while our daughter was still asleep and described the conversation. She managed to surreptitiously steer the discussion to the maintenance man and Lizzie admitted she had flirted some with the man, although she viewed it as benign. Rachel warned her that older men had little time for games and she needed to be wary. She felt the message hit home and she planned to have breakfast with our daughter, when she woke up, perhaps do a little shopping, and then come home.

A few hours later, I called to check on her progress and the phone rolled to voicemail. Thirty minutes later it did the same thing, so I called Lizzie to see if they were together.

"Honey, are you with your mom?" I asked.

"Dad, I'm at school. I left her at the condo this morning," she replied.

"Oh, okay. She said y'all might go shopping. I guess she went alone," I responded.

"Okay, got to go," she fired back and hung up.

When I tried my wife the third time with the same results, I became suspicious, so when she returned my calls an hour later, I had thought through a line of questioning.

"What are you doing? Did you go shopping with Lizzie?" I asked, forcing myself to sound upbeat.

"Uhhh, no... She couldn't miss school," she replied.

"I see. Where did you go? What shops?" I probed.

"You know...just the mall," she answered vaguely and I sensed some tension in her voice.

"Did you talk to Larry?" I asked, hoping to catch her off guard.

"Hey, what's with the questions?" she replied.

"Did you see Larry?" I pushed ignoring her comment.

"We talked," she answered defensively.

"Rachel, did you fuck Larry?" I demanded sensing something was amiss.

"What? What is this?" she responded, but her shaky voice made me certain I was on the right track.

"Rachel," I said sternly.

"No, I didn't..." she started.

"Goodbye Rachel," I said and hung up.

Although my questions had been aggressive, I maintained control, but her weak responses incensed me and I needed to end the call before I lost my cool. Fifteen minutes later she called back, but I was still worried about losing my temper so I didn't answer. We didn't speak again until two hours later when she arrived home. As soon as she stepped into the living room, I could tell she had been crying.

"Are we alone?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied, thankful that our son had gone to visit a friend.

We locked eyes and within a few seconds, I could see her lip quivering. Seconds later, she broke down and began sobbing heavily.

"Hold me," she begged, but I remained in my spot.

"Did you fuck him?" I demanded.

"Yes... I'm sorry. It won't ever happen again, I promise," she whined.

"Go to the bedroom, take your clothes off, and lay on the bed," I told her.

With a quick nod of her head, she left and I gave her some time to get ready before I followed. She was on the bed as I instructed and even from across the room, I could see the redness of her pussy and the light bruises on the insides of her thighs. Moving closer, I spotted several hickeys on the underside of her breasts that I knew her lover left there for me to find. I looked her over and quickly concluded she had spent the day getting thoroughly fucked.

"Where did you meet him?" I asked.

"In an empty condo," she answered in a tiny voice.

"Just like that? He said come with me to fuck?" I probed.

"No, he came to the condo to talk. He...I was bad and I don't know...he wanted to and kept trying and I gave in," she replied, and then added, "I told him we had to go somewhere else."

"How many times?" I asked.

"Twice," she admitted, and then quickly continued with, "But he pulled out."

"Dr. Kott was right. You are a slut. Larry has turned you into one," I stated calmly.

"That's not true! You don't believe that," she cried out.

"Yes, Rachel. I do believe it. Your actions prove it...this time and the last time you were sneaky," I said.

She jumped from the bed, wrapping her arms around my neck as the tears returned and it took her a few seconds before she choked out, "Are you leaving me?"

"I don't know Rachel but I've given up on you. You always say you're sorry and then do it again. I can't trust you anymore and I don't have the time or energy to watch you every moment so tell me what I should do. Clearly, you like to fuck the man and I don't think you will give him up," I told her.

"Please, I'll be good...no more. I promise!" she forced out.

"Did he put the plug in you?" I asked.

"Yes," she answered, too distraught to attempt to evade the question.

"So, you took it with you which meant you knew you were going to fuck him before you left," I responded.

A fresh wave of tears suddenly burst forth as she realized she couldn't argue with my simple logic.