The Phone Call Ch. 05

Note: This story took a long time to come together, but here it is, the conclusion, which will only really make sense if you read the first four chapters. There are some mistakes along the way, so forgive me. Of course all characters are 18+ and this work depicts fantasy. As always, comments are encouraged and appreciated. Thank you

*****

"I know something you don't know." It was Molly's sing-song, childish voice, taunting me over the phone a few weeks after the party. I had debated answering the phone at all. After the night of the fundraising party, Monica and I had reconnected in our affections for one another, though admittedly neither she nor I ever discussed how we had ended the evening with her pretending to be the pretty young blonde now on the other end of the phone.

Also Molly had basically left me alone, allowing me the lie that I wasn't thinking of bending her over my desk every time she walked into my classroom. I wondered if she had lost interest or had just been distracted, but here she was calling me late at night again as I tried to get some grading done.

"I'm sure you know much that I don't." I tried to sound cold and unconcerned, but I knew that whatever she was holding over me was bound to be significant.

"You're such a professor," she said in mock exasperation, "sometimes I wonder why I am even interested in having your baby."

My blood froze and my mouth went dry as I sat in my home office slack jawed. I couldn't force any words out, and time seemed to stand still.

She giggled over the phone, "That got your attention."

"Molly are you..." I couldn't bring myself to say it and her giggles turned into guffaws as my sentence hung unfinished in the air.

"Sadly no, if my body is to be believed," she sighed, "So I guess you get to relax and pretend like cumming inside little ole, unprotected me was a mistake instead of one of the hottest things you've ever done."

My heart started beating again and I couldn't help letting out an audible sigh of relief. Being scared she was pregnant and then hearing she wasn't basically meant anything else she could say would pale in comparison.

"So," she continued when I hadn't said anything, "Aren't you at all curious about my secret?"

"I suspect you're going to tell me what it is whether I am curious or not."

It was her turn to let out a sigh of exasperation, "Fine then, if you're not interested, then I guess you'll have to find out on your own."

Remaining cool and distant, I said, "Yes, I suppose I will."

"One thing though," she said, "Just how much do you know about your wife? I bet I know more than you."

"Wait what?" I couldn't help but saying. "What do you mean?"

She laughed at my sudden turn around. "Oh, now you wanna talk, well guess what? You missed your chance." And she hung up.

I had no idea what she was up to, but of course it made me nervous to consider. I contemplated calling her back, but before I could my phone alerted me to a text message.

I opened a gif of a man slapping a young woman before kissing her hard on the mouth. Her message read, "I hate when we fight, but look forward to making up." I watched the three second scene play out over and over, troubled by its violence, but undeniably aroused.

I wanted to reply, to find a gif of my own to send that would say something playful to keep the game going. Truthfully, though, I'm not very good at communicating that way, it made me feel like an old man, so I let it go. Molly would reveal whatever she was intending in due time.

She wasn't pregnant, apparently, so that was something. I should cut my losses and try to move on. Even as I thought this, however, I opened the previous pictures Molly had sent me of herself, her young naked body, her painted mouth. Then I stopped myself and forced myself to join my wife in bed, aroused with images of the wrong woman in my mind.

The next morning I woke from a dream of Molly grinding in my lap, her blue eyes smiling down at me as she kept saying, "Don't you want to fuck me?" It felt good, what she was doing, but I was fighting it, trying to get her off of me, afraid my wife would walk in and catch us. My eyes shot open with a start to find Monica snuggled against me stroking my cock through my boxers as I slept.

As I struggled to catch up to my surroundings, she offered a slow smile, "My, my, that must have been some dream you were having. Was it about me?" Her hand hadn't stopped moving.

"I..." I glanced around the room and back to her, looking into her eyes. "I mean..." Waking up like that was not conducive to lying.

She blushed a bit and said, "It's okay if I'm not in your dreams... but will you tell me who it was?"

Being the morning of a workday and not the night after too many drinks at the party, I didn't really want to take the chance of being honest. I had called out Molly's name accidentally after the party, but Monica was coaxing it out of me and turned on by it. Who knows what mood she was in now, and I didn't really want to undermine the work we had done on our relationship after that night.

Clearly I was contemplating too long because she said, "I guess you want it to be your little secret." She released my cock from my boxers and wrapped her slender manicured fingers around it. "That's okay, you can have your secrets."

I relaxed into my pillow and let her work her hand over me. Letting the uncomfortable dream slip away and trying to focus on the moment.

As my cock grew in her hand, and her pace increased, Monica said nonchalantly, "I'm having lunch with your student, Molly, today."

My eyes shot open and I could feel my cock twitch in her hand, but all I managed was a labored, "Oh?"

I could hear the smirk in her voice as she continued, "I think you might have liked me mentioning that."

"Monica..." I let out a long breath, trying to get her to drop it, but my invocation of her name sounded more like a moan of longing than an admonition to stop her train of thought.

"Maybe," she snuggled in closer and nibbled my ear as I continued to stare at the ceiling, "I'll invite her home with me, what do you think? Think she might benefit from a woman's guidance?"

"I don't..." it was getting difficult to think. Honestly it wasn't clear if Monica was turned on by the thought of Molly in bed, or if she was simply turned on by having discovered a weakness in me and exploiting it.

"Imagine coming home today," continuing to paint a picture in my ear, "And finding me splayed out on our bed with that mop of blonde curls buried between my legs."

"Fuck," I gasped and bucked my hips up into her hand.

"Of course her cute little ass would be up and presented to you as you watched. Could you resist fucking her?"

"No," I answered truthfully, already knowing I was powerless to resist Molly. As much as I was enjoying this, I wanted more and in a sudden move rolled over on top of Monica, spreading her thighs with my hips as her silk nightgown rode up to her waist.

"Oh my." It was her turn to gasp as the underside of my rock hard cock slid along the length of her wet folds and ground into her. I pulled back and found her entrance, sliding all the way into her in one quick stroke.

Her lithe legs wrapped around my waist and pulled me into her as I hovered above my wife looking down into her eyes.

"Is this what you wanted?" I grunted as I sank into her, "Or would you rather it be Molly I was fucking?"

Her eyes went wide and her cheeks blushed. Suddenly it seemed she was shy of whatever fantasy she was working on, and my note of frustration, if not down right anger had brought out her submissive side.

"I... I..." she hesitated unable to say for certain what her desire was, and then suddenly her slender body began to quiver and her eyes rolled back as an orgasm overtook her.

"That's a good girl," I said, claiming a dominant role I rarely did with Monica, "cum for daddy."

She grunted and whimpered as my words and her orgasm washed over her. Words I had never used in bed with her before. The effect was clear enough and the spasms of her pussy gripped and milked me until I pressed hard into her and released the orgasm that had been building since my dream.

Uncharacteristically I cried out as I emptied myself into my wife. My whole being consumed in that moment. My mind a sheet of white static as my own orgasm short circuited my senses before I collapsed on top of her.

"Mon," I said finally, my cock still buried inside her despite it slightly deflating, "Are you okay?"

She was silent for a long time before wrapping her arms around me and holding me close so I couldn't see her face.

"When I was a freshman in college," She said as her breathing slowed, "I had an affair with my history professor."

"Mon, I don't..."

She cut me off. "No, let me finish. Not only was he my professor, he was married. I think he even had a kid. It was... torrid. He had me in every way I could think to let him. And the more wrong it was, the harder I came."

I tried to push myself up and off of her to look at her, but she held me close.

"I don't know if Molly is into you like I was into him," she continued, "but the thought of it, it terrifies me, but also turns me on, makes me want to relive that time. Makes me want to be that 18 year old college student having her world opened for the first time."

"I'm not going to sleep with Molly," I lied.

"I know," she said into my ear and kissed me, "but I wouldn't blame you if you did. It wouldn't have to be the end... of us, I mean."

"I don't know what to say." I mean, was Monica giving me permission to fuck Molly? Or did she already know I had and was looking for a confession. What had Molly told her?

"It's just, my professor, the one I was sleeping with, his wife found out, and she came to class one day and there was this big scene. It was horrible."

The thought was terrifying. Personal and professional humiliation. How could one live that down?

"What happened?" I asked, "Is that why you transferred?"

I could feel her cheeks wet with tears against my neck as she nodded. "She identified me in class. Everyone called me a slut. All the male professors looked at me differently, like I was a piece of meat. My parents even found out. They made me transfer."

"God that's terrible." my guilt was growing as I began to think about how wrong my recent actions could go.

"The worst part of it," she took a breath, "I kept fucking him. Right up until the end of the school year. It was like, I don't know, I wanted to be the slut everyone said I was."

That threw me, I didn't really know what to say in response to that revelation so I stayed silent for a few moments.

"You never told me about any of this," I said at last. It wasn't accusatory, but curious, and searching.

"No," she sighed, collecting herself, "I wanted to move past it, but these past few weeks..." her voice trailed off.

"Meeting one of my students brought all of it back," I pulled away from her so I could look my wife in the eyes. "Is that why you've been so... affectionate?"

She blushed and nodded. "I'm sorry," she said, "I can't help thinking of you as a professor, or at least, it's like watching an erotic show play out. God help me but I got turned on when Molly contacted me yesterday about having lunch." She turned her head away, "I don't really want you to sleep with her, I just want to feel like, like I could be your student."

I sighed as I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling. "You can be whatever you want with me. We can play whatever games you like."

She sat up in bed and wiped away the wet tears from her cheek. "I need to get ready to go."

As Monica began to stand up I reached out and took hold of her arm keeping her in place. "Please, um, be careful of Molly."

Monica looked annoyed as she pulled free and left the bed. "Don't worry, John, I'm not stupid. I won't do anything that would jeopardize your career."

I sighed and debated laying it all out, but it was obvious that Monica had misunderstood my warning, thinking I was cautioning her about being gentle with the innocent student, rather than warning her about a devious threat.

Still I let it go. As ridiculous as it sounds, it annoyed me to think Monica couldn't even imagine that the girl was dangerous to her, or that I had already been fucking her. So I let Monica go off to the shower and get ready for her day as I tried to process everything that I had just heard and think through what Molly's game was. The only thing I knew for sure was that Monica was far more susceptible to the young woman's machinations than I had originally guessed.

Fortunately, the morning's activities had sated me to a point where I was able to concentrate on some long overdue work and have a very productive day. Still, as the lunch hour turned to late afternoon, I was curious about the lack of a text from Monica giving any indication as to how her lunch with Molly had gone. I was curious also about the lack of a text from Molly, who I was sure would tease me with their meeting as soon as she could, knowing it made me uneasy.

Not wanting to be too nosey, however, I managed to keep my own need to send a text in check throughout the afternoon as I worked in my office at school. As I packed up my papers for the day and prepared to head home, Heather, my secretary stopped me.

"I saw Monica today," she said, with a bit of worry on her face.

"Okay," I said non committally but my heart started racing.

"She was at the Cafe Torte," Heather hesitated, "with one of your students."

I nodded and gave her a quizzical look. "Yes, I know, they were having lunch today. Part of some kind of mentoring program."

"Oh," she pursed her lips.

"What is it, Heather?" I took a step toward her desk.

"It just seemed, I don't know, a bit flirty."

I sighed, "Okay."

"I mean," Heather said, "They weren't sitting across from each other, but close together, and I think," she trailed off.

"Go on, out with it," I was annoyed, but also impatient to find out what Heather saw.

"I think your student was touching her under the table."

"You think?" I said a bit angrily, even though I suspected it was true.

"Well I couldn't be sure," Heather said meekly.

"Ok then, so you can't be sure that my wife was being felt up in a public by one of my students, but you thought it a good idea to tell me this?" I leaned over her desk and peered into her eyes, "Are you trying to end my marriage?"

"No," her eyes went wide, "I just..."

What I said next hurt me to say, but I had to end whatever Heather thought she saw. I leaned close and whispered, "Look, Heather, just because I fucked you last month doesn't mean I want to be with you. So quit making shit up trying to steal me away."

Heather's eyes welled with tears and she began apologizing profusely, making all manner of denials as I left the office and the building and headed for home.

I had no idea what I would find when I made it to my house. The place was dark, but Monica's car was in the driveway. "Monica!" I called out letting my briefcase fall to the floor as I closed the door behind me. "Are you home?"

Making my way upstairs to our bedroom I found Monica, laying naked on our bed, groggily opening her eyes. Making my way toward her I kneeled beside the bed, "Are you okay?"

She blinked hard, "Yeah... I mean, yes, I'm okay." she glanced around the darkened room, "Just taking a nap I guess."

Her vibrator was laying on the bed next to her which caused me to raise an eyebrow, but I didn't mention it.

"Lunch go okay?" I asked calmly, "You seem really out of it."

She lifted herself up slightly, her dark hair mussed and falling into her eyes as she pushed it away. Her eyes seemed to struggle to focus. "Yeah, I... I guess it went fine. I remember feeling a bit dizzy, but Molly drove me home in my car."

I nodded. "And then what happened?" Trying to coax out of her the explanation for how she ended up naked, next to her vibrator. Wondering how Molly was involved as she no doubt was.

"I don't know," she smiled slowly, "I guess I came upstairs and took a nap."

"And that?" I asked, nodding my head toward her vibrator.

"I guess I had a little fun," she blushed. "You don't mind do you?"

My eyes turned skeptical. "No. Of course not. I'm glad to see you so... interested."

A new shade of blush seemed to run over her as I sat on the bed beside my naked wife and stroked the soft slope of her hip to her waist.

"I don't think I'm quite up for it," she sighed laying back down and turning away from me.

In truth the rejection stung a bit. I gave a disappointed smile and tried to sound understanding. "Well hopefully soon you might change your mind, but go ahead and rest if you don't quite feel well."

"Okay," she said sleepily as she relaxed back into her pillow.

Shaking my head as I left her in bed, I knew there was more to this story than I was being told, but what exactly had happened? And if Molly had helped Monica home, then that meant Molly had been in the house. That thought made me incredibly nervous, never mind the question as to whether Molly had anything to do with Monica's nakedness or obviously sexually charged afternoon. With my mouth dry with anxiety and more unanswered questions, I made my way down the hall to my home office.

Opening the door I was greeted by the sight of Molly, naked, sitting in my desk chair, one leg draped over an arm, spreading her milky white thighs wide as the fingers of one hand idly rubbed her pink pussy while the other controlled the computer.

She looked at me and a devious smile spread across her lips, but she didn't stop touching herself as she said, "Hi Honey, welcome home."

I closed the door behind me and moved toward her angrily, in hushed tones I growled, "What the hell are you doing? And what did you do to Monica?"

"I took her to dinner, professor."

"What?" I was angry and confused.

She giggled, "What is it Hamlet said, 'Not where she eats... but where she is eaten.'"

I swallowed hard as I processed the words.

Molly dropped her leg to the floor and leaned over the desk toward me. "I could taste you, you know? Very faint, but it was there. Did you fuck her this morning?"

"You... you went down on her?"

She raised her eyebrows and gave a little nod. "She came and came. I think she had fun."

"Why did she seem so out of it. Did you drug her."

Molly's smile turned into a frown. "Oh Professor, we all need a little something to relax every now and again. It was just a little... well a little me, I guess." she gave a little chuckle.

"What?" I was angry and confused.

"Me," she said again, exasperating in the way only a teen can be, "You know, Molly? What they used to call E."

"You gave her ecstasy?" I asked trying to keep my voice down. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I pushed my hands through my hair as I debated about what to do. I fell back onto the small reading chair I kept in the far corner of the room.

"Wrong with me?" she laughed. "You're the one who fucked your student. I'm just a poor naïve little girl caught up in feelings she doesn't understand." Then she laughed maliciously as she stood up, her gloriously naked body, petite and lithe, moving toward me where I sat.

I just watched her, horrified that I was turned on, berating myself to end this, to throw her out. My wife was right down the hall, for goodness sake!

When she reached me she sank to her knees between my feet and laid her head on my thigh looking up at me with those misleadingly innocent eyes.

"Don't tell me it doesn't turn you on to think of my cute little mouth pleasuring your wife," she teased as her hand rubbed up my leg eventually squeezing my cock through my trousers. "Oh," she smiled, "I can see that it does."