Rachel Goes Back to School Ch. 02

"I see, but there's something there. Some sperm present," I said and when he nodded his head, I asked, "Enough to get my wife pregnant?"

"Yes, some is present and it only takes one. Anything is possible, but the probability is remote," he answered, and then added, "At this point I mean."

As I walked out, I felt concerned about his message, but his calm and friendly demeanor provided some comfort that is was a normal situation. On the drive to the condo, I thought about telling Rachel, but the procedure itself had made her happy, and since then, she seemed content to let things take their course. I worried that the information might create some needless angst, so I decided to skirt around the issue. Plus, I hadn't entirely bought into the idea of a new baby, so it felt like a reprieve.

"How did it go? Everything working?" she asked eagerly, as soon as she arrived.

"Yes, sperm is present," I answered, providing her a half-truth.

"It's better this way don't you think?" she said, and before I could respond, she added, "I like it better this way."

"Playing Russian roulette with your womb?" I teased.

"Yeah..." she replied as she slipped into my arms.

We went for an early dinner and I had some hopes of play when we returned, but Rachel complained several times about being behind on her school work, so I decided to leave. Just before I left, I spotted the butt plug, the gift from the Polish professor, still sitting on the nightstand which brought a smile to my face.

"I still can't get over your friend the professor," I teased.

We had discussed the evening many times since the fateful evening, and on each occasion, we would eventually start laughing. I had taken the position that since he was her friend, she bore some responsibility, which she categorically rejected. Nonetheless, I enjoyed picking at her.

"You couldn't take your eyes off Anna," she countered, using her standard defense.

"You should have tried it," I replied, giving a response I had used before.

"Leave," she said playfully and guided me towards the door.

The drive back gave me plenty of time to think and I considered all the dimensions. First, the desire of Rachel to return to school, to continue to grow, I knew had a deeper meaning than a diploma or a different job. Second, the sudden interest in another child, which had caught me completely off guard, factored into things, too, and finally, there was the eruption of her sexuality. Early on, I had considered and then rejected that she might be experiencing a mid-life crisis, but the thought returned. When she had described the pool and the actions of her father, I had told her the condo represented opportunity, but now I wondered if it was more like fuel on a fire.

Since she started school, the sexual aspects of our lives had been poked, prodded, energized, and challenged. Most of it had been good, in truth, outstanding, as we experienced new things together that resulted in better communication. However, on several occasions, we crossed a line that both excited and scared us. I knew we would venture there again, the thrill was too seductive, but I didn't expect it quite so soon. Less than a month after the made-up sink problem that brought Larry to the condo, Rachel called to tell me she had a real one.

"Look, I'm not kidding... The sink really is stopped up," she said, with trepidation in her voice.

"Well, have Larry take a look," I replied, trying to show no concern.

"You're okay with that?" she asked, a little confused.

"Yeah, why not?" I probed.

"Well... he'll be here... I mean... you know," she responded.

"Rachel you said you could handle it. If you're worried, call him and then go to the school... to the library," I counseled, although I could feel my pulse quicken.

Silence followed for a time before she replied, "All my stuffs here."

"Rachel, you don't need the sink for one night. Call the office tomorrow when you're leaving and they can fix it while your home," I told her.

"Okay, I'll do that," she responded and I could swear I heard some disappointment in her voice.

As soon as we hung up, I began to wonder whether the true purpose of the call had been to get my acceptance, perhaps even my agreement, that she should call Larry. If so, did it mean she sought something more than a repair? In fact, could it be possible the sink had was fine? If any of it were remotely true, it meant my wife wanted another encounter with the man and she knew, as did I, it wouldn't stop short of full intercourse.

I thought about calling her back and I considered driving to her to provide first-hand support, but I decided to let things settle for a while. Later, I would call and make sure she was in a good place, but less than an hour had elapsed when my phone rang, and looking at the screen, I could see it was Rachel.

"He's here," she announced.

"Who? Larry?" I asked.

"Yeah..." she admitted in a voice barely above a whisper.

I wanted her to say more... to admit her carnal desires, but she remained silent, and only when it became awkward, did I ask, "What are you wearing?"

"Jeans and a blouse. What I wore up here. Why?" she replied.

"Okay," I said, ignoring the question.

Once more, we entered a long period of silence that this time ended when my wife asked, "Do you want me to put on your robe?"

Essentially, my wife had just asked permission to have sex with another man. At this point, there simply was no other outcome. She knew it as well as me which meant that she must be burning with lust. We had played with fire several times, but in each case had been able to retreat with only minor damage. I couldn't deny that her words excited me, but would it be the same after?

"Do you want to let go of the edge?" I asked.

There were several seconds of silence before she replied in a soft voice, "I want you to tell me to."

Now all the cards were on the table, as she had communicated clearly what she wanted and how she wanted it to occur. My role required that I give the command, the final decision, that would allow her to maintain a tiny sliver of decency while ensuring my full culpability.

Taking my time, I considered everything as the sound of her breathing came through the phone before finally telling her, "Put on the robe baby."

"Your robe," she clarified.

"Yes, my robe," I answered.

"Okay," she whispered, and then the line went dead.

To this day, I don't know how I endured the next several hours, but somehow, often feeling like a zombie, I made sure the kids got something to eat and did their schoolwork. When they had finished and were doing their own thing, I moved to the bedroom and stared at the ceiling contemplating what might be happening and what I should do. Had things progressed to sex and at that very moment did he have his cock in her as he listened to her whines of pleasure? Had he made her orgasm and would she now compare the experience to our lovemaking? Did she maintain enough self-control to keep his semen out of her unprotected pussy? As the unanswered questions piled up, the true insanity of it all hit me like a freight train, and suddenly I had the phone in my hand dialing her number.

"Rachel?" I asked when the phone connected.

"Yeah..." she responded in a tiny voice.

"Did you... did it happen?" I asked.

"Yeah..." she confirmed.

"Are you okay?" I probed, wondering why she only offered simple answers.

"Hold on..." she said, and in the background, I heard a male voice.

"He's still with you," I stated rather than asked.

"Yeah..." she whispered once more, and then added, "I'll call you later."

The call never came and I tossed and turned in a night of fitful sleep, adamant I would not try again. However, as soon as the kids had prepped for school, I jumped into my SUV and headed for the city. It wasn't lost on me that it was the second time I had raced to my wife because of an encounter with Larry.

I arrived a little before nine and entered the condo with apprehension about what I might find. Relieved by the silence, I stepped to the bedroom door and spotted my wife, on the bed alone, covered only by the bedsheet. The comforter lay in a heap on the floor next to the kimono and instantly the aroma of sex filled my nose.

"Rachel," I whispered as I moved to her side.

It took her a moment to turn and she showed no surprise at my presence. She reached out with her hand and took mine, running her fingers over it several times. She looked exhausted and her hair was disheveled but she managed to show a small smile.

"What took you so long?" she sighed.

"You were supposed to call," I reminded her.

"He wouldn't let me," she replied, speaking in a soft voice.

"Did you?" I asked although the reality was all around me, and when she gave a small nod, I asked, "How long did he stay?"

"Till two," she replied.

Instantly, my mind filled with a vision of them fucking for hours in every position with Rachel screaming in orgasm over and over. Although sordid, I knew I wanted her and rose to take off my clothes.

"My turn," I said as I worked on the buttons.

"Let me go to the bathroom," she sighed and threw the sheet off.

There were several hickeys on her breasts but all-in-all, she appeared less ravaged than I expected. She walked awkwardly towards the bathroom, but when she turned to enter, I spotted something, and glancing towards the nightstand, I realized the butt plug was missing.

"Rachel! Rachel, come here... now," I commanded.

"Let me..." she started.

"Now," I repeated, interrupting her plea.

By her sheepish look, I knew she understood why she had been called back. I made her stand in front of me as I fixed her with a stern stare.

"Sorry..." she said meekly.

"Turn around," I demanded, and when her back was to me, I said, "Now bend over."

With her ass projected back, it was easy to see the red disk that marked the end of the device. She had rejected my attempt to use it on her, but it seemed like her new lover didn't have the same restrictions.

"You let him. You wouldn't let me, but you let him," I stated.

Rachel quickly turned and tried to push me onto the bed, but I stopped her and looked into her face until her eyes dropped and she said, "I'm sorry."

"I can smell him all over you," I said.

"Let me shower," she replied and quickly headed towards the bathroom.

I went to the kitchen to get some water and noted Larry's tools still sitting on the counter. It appeared he had at least gone through the motions of a legitimate maintenance call before my wife walked out in the robe and let him know what the visit was really about. I heard the shower start, and ten minutes later, still standing in the kitchen sipping from a bottle, I heard a light knock on the door followed immediately by a key in the lock. Instantly, I knew it meant that Larry had returned to retrieve his tools, fuck my wife again, or both.

"Hey there," I said when he stepped inside, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"Look... she said it was okay," he replied defensively.

"Okay to bed her or to come back?" I asked sarcastically.

The man's eyes got wide for a moment, but he collected himself and answered vaguely, "Yeah..."

Slowly his expression changed until a little smile appeared and I thought he might be recalling the night with Rachel. Then, he seemed to jolt back to the moment and once more made eye contact with a concerned look.

"I need to get my things," he stated.

I knew he meant that he wanted me to step out of the small space to allow him in, but just as I started to move, the sound of the shower ceased, and I stopped.

"You don't want anymore?" I asked, suddenly struck by the decadence of it all.

Several seconds elapsed as we stared at each other, and then he said, "You sure."

"Yeah," I answered and nodded towards the bedroom.

His smile returned and he stepped to the entrance and went inside closing the door behind him. Within seconds, I heard voices that I couldn't make out and soon my wife appeared with Larry right behind.

"Honey, what's going on?" she asked nervously.

"Larry wants to spend more time with you like y'all agreed," I replied.

When I made the statement, I had no idea if there had been any agreement about his return, but my wife's face confirmed I had hit the nail on the head.

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

"Take your lover to bed," I told the man in a voice I didn't recognize.

When the maintenance man's hands landed on her shoulders, she glanced at him and then quickly back at me. Reluctantly, she let him turn and lead her into the bedroom and he used his foot to kick the door closed.

I moved to the sofa and sat waiting for the sounds of their sex to filter out, but as the minutes ticked by with no action, I guessed my wife had turned him down. The door hadn't latched when he kicked it leaving an inch or so gap, and despite my curiosity, I refused to look. More time went by and just when I had decided nothing would happen, the sound of the bed squeaking leaked out. I could tell it was a slow pace, but over the next few minutes, the squeals increased in intensity and became joined by the soft grunts of my wife.

Unable to remain still any longer, I stepped quietly to the crack and saw the mating couple in the missionary position. She had pulled back her knees so that her feet touched his ass while her hands gripped his biceps. The maintenance man would wind up his body and then release it with a hard thrust which forced her sounds. Amazingly, he managed to do this at a steady pace that increased further as I watched. They held an ongoing whispered conversation, but I was too far away to make it out.

"Ohhhh...uhhhh..." Rachel suddenly moaned as her legs spread completely open.

At first, I thought she might have experienced an orgasm, but as she continued to hold her legs lewdly separated, I realized she simply wanted him to go deeper. He rode her like this for several minutes and then stopped. I could tell they were discussing something and when the man started to rise, my wife pulled him down and kissed him passionately. More conversation followed, but this time when he lifted his body, they disconnected and he prodded my wife onto her knees.

Rachel didn't care for the position as she thought it lacked intimacy and made it harder to talk, but she accepted his guidance without protest. As she scooted, I got a good look into her crack and noticed that she had removed Dr. Kott's gift. Strangely, I felt a bit disappointed and watched as Larry guided her until he could stand next to the bed, and then without ceremony shoved his cock back inside. I took solace in the fact that his cock was like mine, although maybe a bit thicker.

"Fuck, baby. You feel good," he declared in a clear voice as he took hold of her hips and started moving rapidly.

The sudden assault made my wife squeal in joy and soon I could see her pushing against his thrusts. Her hands gripped the bedsheet, and as I watched, her fingers slowly collected more. At the same time, her head, resting against the mattress, slowly lolled back and forth. It might not have been her favorite position, but at that moment she appeared to be enjoying it immensely.

Larry's upright stance provided a better view of his body and I spotted a large tattoo on his hairless chest, although from my sideways view, I couldn't make out the details. Also, his muscles were more pronounced than I thought which made me think that he must visit a gym on occasion.

The maintenance man pounded her relentlessly, somehow able to keep his aggressive pace going with no signs of flagging. With each thrust, Rachel's needy whines became a little louder and a little more urgent. Also, joining those sounds were the wet, squishes of her juices forced from her hole by the man's pumping shaft. At that moment, it dawned on me that I had never seen others fucking outside of porn, let alone my wife. It felt surreal and my vision became tunneled. Also, I realized that she was responding sexually in a manner I had never experienced which I struggled to accept. Did it mean she found one of us better or was it just different?

"Close... so close," she suddenly whined.

"Going to cum again?" her lover asked.

"Yes... yes, I want to," she whimpered shamelessly.

"Damn, I love married pussy," the man spat out.

"Do you... do you like it?" she forced out.

"Yes... I love your pussy... love fucking you," he told her

The windup for Rachel's orgasm took almost a minute. The first signs appeared with her hands as she began to pull more of the sheet into her fist. Then, the rolling of her head sped up and when she started to push back forcefully against her lover's cock while groaning deeply, I knew she wouldn't last more than a few seconds.

"Ohhh... oh, yes... Oh God... God, yes... Larry... do it, baby... do it," she cried out when it hit.

"Let it out, baby... let it out now. Cum on my cock, baby," he encouraged.

"Ohhh... I am... I'm cumming... fuck me... fuck me good," she panted.

He used his strength to keep her upright and for a moment I thought he might ejaculate, but what he really wanted to accomplish was to extend her climax. He proved successful as Rachel thrashed and whined for almost a minute before she finally started to calm down. Then, he let her fall forward but he followed and kept pounding into her wet pussy as she lay sprawled across the bed. Minutes ticked by and he appeared to be getting no closer to a release which made me wonder if he had used up all his juice the night before.

"Fuck me, baby," my wife moaned.

"You want me to fuck you?" he replied.

"Yes, fuck me good," she answered.

Rachel had never used dirty words in bed with me, but she seemed at ease with Larry. The dirty words appeared to energized him as if he realized she was showing him an unseen part of her, and he started moving even faster. Soon, I could tell he was approaching the point of no return.

"Don't cum in me," Rachel said in a low voice, obviously sensing his state as well.

"Yeah..." he grunted

Pleased that she had maintained control on such an important issue, I watched him approach his peak wondering how he would finish.

"Remember," she warned, again.

The maintenance man started fucking her so aggressively I thought it might be hurting her, but it only lasted for about twenty strokes before he suddenly pulled out with a deep grunt.

"Fuck, here it comes, baby," he declared as Rachel spun to her back.

Then his body was over her with his fist pumping his hard cock just inches from her breasts. With a final moan, several large drops of semen fell onto her breasts and she instantly started to rub the thick fluid into her skin. The fact that only a small quantity had dribbled out made me, once more, think about their night together, how many releases he had experienced and where that cum had landed. Without speaking, my wife took his half-hard cock in her hand and brought the head to her mouth. For the next few minutes, I watched as she licked the entire shaft, and most of his balls clean. When she finished, her lover fell to her side and they entwined in a tight connection. Thinking things had ended, I returned to the sofa, but it took another thirty minutes before my wife appeared at the door in her thin robe.

"All finished?" I asked a bit sarcastically.

"I am with him... He's getting dressed," she replied, showing no distress, as she sat on my knee.

The pungent smell of fresh sex filled my nostrils and for a moment I thought about opening her robe and inspecting for marks. However, I decided to maintain some sanity and wait until her lover left.

"Need to get the tools," the man said awkwardly moments later when he left the bedroom.

"Okay, Larry," Rachel responded cheerily.

"I didn't fix the sink yet," he declared as we heard the clanging of metal.