Obvious, in Retrospect Ch. 2

I guess I could have just said "No" when Taylor asked me if I was pregnant. We had gone shopping together and were at a trendy little coffee shop. We had already had the scene, two weeks ago - not much was said, but we all agreed that it was time to put on our clothes and go home. It seemed best to pretend nothing had ever happened. Until I said "No, not by your husband or mine," in response to Taylor's question. Taylor looked at me over her coffee cup and shot me a wry glance. "Meowww." She was wearing an electric blue tennis outfit, and still looking even more tan than usual. The tight top emphasized her curves, her perky tits and nipples, always half-erect, at least. Her long brown legs stretched into the metal chair beside her. "Sorry. Well, how about you?" "Oh, I'm still on the pill. We had talked about having a baby, but not just yet." The college-kid waiter began to hover again, pouring another eighth inch of coffee into our mugs as he tried to peer down my blouse. "So that's settled, I guess," I said over the lip of my coffee cup, staring into space. "Aren't we a couple of Stepford wives?" Taylor said. "What do you mean?" "You don't feel any emotion about all this?" "I do, but oddly enough, the main thing is I'm disappointed I'm not pregnant. We've been trying for over two years." Suddenly I was crying a little. I wiped away a tear with a napkin. "I'm surprised John didn't manage it," Taylor whispered, and laughed. "They called him 'Mr. Sperm' in his fraternity, because of his frequent trips to the sperm bank. They loved him over there." "You're kidding. Well, thank goodness. Chris would have been furious. Wouldn't you have been?" "Well, John's probably fathered about ten children by now, so - not per se. I mean, you know - I waived my right to be furious just a few minutes later." "Let's not talk about that any more," I said. "Alcohol, sun - it's a hell of a combination," she sighed. Was she thinking about having Chris pumping deep inside her? I hadn't seen it - I had been crying in our bedroom, both from the guilt and from how good it had felt to have a man go wild with me like John had. Chris hadn't fucked me like that in ages. But even with his guilty conscience and with me having to pry the details out of him, Chris ended up making it sound like sex with Taylor had been the hottest thing he had done in a long time. And I was off on the guilt trip again. When would I quit replaying it all? Our eyes met. "Let's not talk about that any more," I said, evenly, but I couldn't help laughing, and then neither could she. "I hate to admit it, but you were looking pretty good on top of poor old John when we came back. You looked like a cowgirl breaking a bronco." I blushed furiously and looked around to make sure no one heard. "Let's not talk about that anymore!" I hissed. "Oh come off it. We all ended up going a little too far, but no one needs to get busted up about it. It was just sex," she said into her coffee mug. "A little too far? How much farther could we have gone? You wanted to see me end up carrying John's baby? You want to drive by our house and see John's boy or girl playing in our yard?" I wasn't mad at this point, just amazed. "There's more to being a parent than being a sperm donor. Or even an egg donor, for that matter, but that's a bit more complicated. As I said, John's already 'fathered' several children," she said, making quote marks in the air and picking up her coffee mug again in a sort of triumph. "They made him stop because of some silly rule about how many times his sperm could be actually used for a fertilization. Seems there's no stopping it," she giggled, taking a sip. "Just as well he retired from stud service," I said. "No way Chris would pay for in-vitro or the like. He's obsessed with two things along those lines; getting our house paid down, and being the actual father of his child. We started talking adoption, and he didn't want to talk about it. Same two reasons." "The cost of two beers is probably all it would take for John." "Let's not go there again. You're going to go home tonight and ask John to come by and do a repeat performance?" "Of course not. What would be the fun in that? But I bet you could seduce him no trouble. You have a great body, and the man's always ready to go. Hell, I could use the break." I put down my cup and stared at her. "You're serious." "Well, Chris is starting to travel more, now that he's got help at the main office, isn't he? Funny how that didn't work out exactly as planned. So, yeah, I'll invite you over some nights Chris is out. Two conditions: you don't tell him what we're up to in advance, and I get to be in on it, somehow, even if it's just watching." "Sorry, I'm not going to cheat on Chris again." "What he doesn't know can't hurt him. Doesn't he want a baby?" "Yeah, his." "Eh. He and John look enough alike. Kids don't look that much like their parents anyway. No one would ever know." "No one will ever know, because I'm not doing it." "So you wouldn't come over some night for us to cook out for you? I'm hurt," Taylor said, putting on the pout like the cheerleader she used to be. She was good. I knew what she was up to now, and still I almost believed her. Wanted to believe her. "To cook out, sure. But that's it." "We won't do anything you don't want to do," she laughed, flexing her pecs in that cute little way she has that makes her titties bounce, like she doesn't know she's doing it. The waiter appeared again, right on cue, which made me laugh along with her. Chris had to go on an overnight trip later that week. I didn't tell Taylor. It was just one night, so there was no reason for her or John to notice. I'd been fantasizing about her suggestion, including one memorable ride on my biggest dildo (the one I kept tucked away behind some old panties, separate for the ones I used to let Chris diddle me with when we were feeling kinky, back before sex was all about making a baby), hunched over it, almost in tears trying to fit it all in me. It was an "off night," and Chris was watching late night television, too frazzled from his day to sleep. But the phone rang the morning Chris left. "Hey, John and I are expecting you tonight." "How did you know?" "We were supposed to know because you were supposed to tell us, but John was talking to him and found out. Can you come?" "Just for a cookout, right?" "Sure," she giggled. "What else were you expecting?" When I showered and got dressed that afternoon, I picked a short, but demure wraparound skirt and sleeveless top. It wasn't until I put it on that I realized how hot I looked in it. My skin was still tanned from the trip, and I'd been losing weight from fretting about what had happened. I tried on heels, and sandals, and went back and forth. The heels were just a bit too dressy, but what the hell. I got there before John did, and Taylor looked me over appreciatively. "Give me a chance, girl! I said you could borrow him, not steal him from me!" "I didn't put this on for him." "Uh-huh. Listen. Don't come on to him. At some point, I'll start things off by letting him catch us doing some kissing and stuff. That drives him wild, but he won't admit it. You ever do any girl-girl action? He knows I swung that way a little in college..." By then I was wanting to run from her. It seemed surreal, but I turned away and looked stupidly back at her front door, trying to decide to open it. It had been Taylor's tanning-oil applications on the beach that had put me over the edge, making me want, stupidly, to see Chris put oil on Taylor. That started it all... she came up behind me and put her arm around my waist. She smelled like bath oils, like a garden. She said into my ear. "Nothing too heavy. But he'll take it from there. You'll see." I was still thinking about leaving, about telling her this had been a mistake, when the door opened. Taylor stepped away from me as it did. Just two suburban wives, waiting to greet a husband. "Hi, John," Taylor said, greeting him with a hug and kiss. "Look who's here!" "Hi!" John said, putting a hand on my elbow and kissing my cheek. "Where's Chris?" "He went out of town." "He's becoming as big of a roadie as I am. Would you like to stay for dinner?" "Yes, please do," Taylor said. "We bought a bunch of steaks this weekend." "Chris will hate that he missed those," John said, looking me over, one eyebrow raised slightly. "Not if we don't tell him," I said, and they both laughed. Everything seemed a little more normal now. Maybe we could just have dinner and be friends again. John headed to the back to shower and change, and we went into the kitchen to start dinner. Taylor opened some Merlot, poured three glasses, and gave me one. "Let it breathe a little before you start slugging it down," she said with a smile. We put together a salad and I put it on three place settings on their patio table, checking myself before I set up a fourth. She was in the kitchen, getting the steaks ready. She went out and started the grill; I was sipping the wine and looking out at their wooded back yard. "Nice, huh? Let's sit on the couch." She picked up the two glasses of wine and steered me back inside. She smelled a bit more like food now, the herbal elements mixing with garlic and a little sweat. We set our wine glasses down on the coffee table and she gently pushed me onto the leather couch. "I'm not sure," I began, as she opened two buttons on my blouse. "What a sexy bra. You're sure all right. Shhh," she said, closing my lips with hers as she reached in and ran a hand over one of my cups. I could feel it through the thin material. I took her hand, as if to move it away, but succeeded only in moving it back and forth over a nipple, which hardened to a point. I looked down, breaking the kiss, and sure enough they were showing now. "Now look what you've done," I laughed. I was beginning to feel the wine. "I'm looking," she said, and kissed down into the cleft that my opened blouse was exposing. She leaned over me, forcing me back down on the pillows. My skirt was riding up, and I tried to adjust it. As I did so, she sat up. "Oh, hi John. Ready to start the steaks?" John was standing in the doorway, now wearing a camp shirt and khaki shorts. "Sure," he said nonchalantly, but then he came around and took the glass of wine Taylor was offering. I wondered how long he had been there. Long enough. I tried to get up nonchalantly and adjust my clothes. I reached for my blouse button, and managed to get the lower of the two buttons done without being too obvious. My skirt came back down when I stood up, but I could feel a new coolness from my dampening panties. I downed some more wine, and John offered to go get me some more. When he went to the kitchen, I reached for the next blouse button, but Taylor took my hand away. "That's fine. A little cleavage, not too obvious," she whispered in my ear. I started to button it anyway, but then John was back with the wine. I thanked him as he poured. "To great friends, good wine, and fine meat," Taylor giggled. John shot her a look as we clinked glasses and drank. Too much wine before dinner. Far too much. Taylor kept things on a low simmer while John grilled the steaks, starting rice on a boil, cutting up vegetables with me for a quick stir-fry, touching my hips as she went to the refrigerator for some ranch dressing and baby carrots, a cold hand on mine when she took whacked-up cauliflower from me. "Here," she said, putting a tiny, pre-peeled carrot in my mouth which she had dipped in dressing. The little rounded tip was slick with it. I tasted garlic. "Get some food in you. You don't want to fall asleep later." John emerged from the patio. "Steaks are ready. How's everything else?" "Just a minute, hon," Taylor said. The domestic goddess. She fed him a carrot, as she had me, but with her arm securely around his waist. "Okay, Penny, grab the rice and I'll bring the veggies." We ate on the patio as the sun came down. John asked me where Chris went. I said I thought it was New Orleans this time. He made some jokes about Chris being loose in the big city. Taylor jabbed him in the ribs and asked him how his day had gone. He talked about work; he seemed to be avoiding talk about one particular client, and I guessed it was the client whose house we stayed in. I took it easy on the wine, and thought that maybe, after all, I would get out of there after dinner, virtue intact, and go home to a date with the big dildo. We moved back into the living room after dinner. I sat in a chair by the couch, where John and Taylor were nestling in. John had started some jazz on the sound system. "Sit over here," Taylor beckoned, then got up and dragged me over, sitting me down on the other side of John. It was a bit of a tight fit, and Taylor nestled in closer to John and began to make out with him. I could feel John's warmth, and I was already too hot. "I need to go," I said, and realized that I didn't sound like I meant it. Because I didn't. "John, we're being rude to our guest. Do you want to watch us, Penny?" They were both looking at me. I opened my mouth, but it just hung open. Penny leaned over and sucked on my lower lip. "I could get used to this," John said, and we became a tangle of arms and legs on the couch. John brought me to my feet, and we went down the hallway to the bed, which was already turned down. I leaned over to take my shoes off, and by the time I turned around John and Taylor were well on their way to being entirely naked. Taylor was down to a bra and panties, and John was wearing a pair of print boxers. They went back to it, hands all over each other. I ended up with Taylor between me and John, and they were too wrapped up in each other to notice me. I wanted to touch myself, to relieve some pressure, but the skirt was in the way. I took it off, and lay there on my back, one hand absently stroking Taylor's back, one hand down in my panties, slowly rubbing my clit. Taylor rolled over and turned my way. "Let me help you," she said, and reached into my panties. I reached into my blouse and bra and started rubbing a nipple, making it slick with my own juices. I felt my panties rolling down, and off, lost track of where they were. My legs were spreading wider and wider to make room for Taylor's hand. She had a couple of fingers in me now, and a thumb on my clit. She knew right where to put it. Ask the girl who owns one. I reached back, trying to return the favor, and found that her bra was off. By turning my head a bit, I could reach a nipple with my mouth, and I began to suck. Some long-forgotten college experiences of my own came flooding back, especially when she began to moan. I ended up underneath Taylor. Her pussy was arched over my face, and we were sucking each other's clits. Her nipples stroked along my hips. I thought I was going to come that way, and perhaps that would be it for the night. Maybe this wasn't quite cheating. It sure wasn't going to get me pregnant. I had lost track of John, until I saw his erect dick, huge from this angle, start to penetrate Taylor's dripping pussy. This pushed out her clitoris, making it even easier for me to get at it and lick it, and nibble on it gently. She began to thrash, and I angled back to start licking on John's balls, which were shaved and smelled clean and wonderful. I wanted to make him hotter and maybe slow her down a little, but they were both well beyond the point of no return. She lost all track of what she was doing to my own clit as she surrendered to her own bliss. When her orgasm shuddered to a halt, she climbed off. I figured John had come as well, but it was still rock hard; he angled it down toward my mouth. I realized they were naked and I was still wearing my blouse and bra. I started to suck his dick, which tasted like Taylor. I wanted to get out of the blouse and bra, and it was frustrating me, because they both had me pressed down, working on me - I lost track of who was doing what to whom, although I realized at one point that he had moved down, and Taylor was really just off to the side now. And finally Taylor took my blouse and bra off, and I was as naked as they were. That's when I felt what could only be John's cock at the entrance to my pussy, pushing gently at it. I squirmed away, half-hoping that maybe one of them would get me off another way and maybe I wouldn't feel like such a cheat, half-hoping he would pin me down already and fuck me. Which is what he did, in a manner of speaking. But it was so big. That time on the beach, I just sort of impaled myself on him, and it hurt like hell for a moment before the pleasure started flooding in. This time he was working it slowly in, and I was fighting it, then relaxing - for a moment I thought I was going to keep what was left of my virtue intact, but then it finally started making its way in, stretching my pussy and filling it like it hadn't been filled since - that one time, and even then, he wasn't as long and hard as he was now. He just couldn't have been. I finally accepted the fact that he was going to fuck me, and probably make me pregnant - if not this time, then the inevitable next time, or the next. About then, he started sliding it in and out, in and out, slowly at first. Soon he was bottoming out in me, brushing my cervix. I heard animal sounds that I realized were coming from me; Taylor leaned over and began to suck on one nipple and twist the other one in her fingers. Then she rubbed my breasts, and swung her leg over my face. I began to suck on her clit again, drinking in her juices, and began a wave of orgasms that were still going when John began to come, spilling up in my insides, wave after wave. Taylor started coming again just as we were slowing down, and I put my hands on her hips to steady her. We got dressed after that. I felt a little awkward, not to mention sore, and I needed to get home in case Chris called. A few days later, Chris was in town, but working a bit late. Taylor called to see if I wanted to go running with her and John. They ran over to our house, which is only a few blocks away from theirs, and we did the loop of the neighborhood. I'd only started running since the trip; Taylor got me interested in it. My running outfit wasn't as daring as hers, but the shorts were short and my legs were still tan. We started off at an easy pace. Taylor started going faster and got away from me and John. We did another mile after that, and as we neared my house John asked if he could get some water before continuing back to his house. We were standing in the kitchen, guzzling cold water, when he said "I've saved it up for you for four days now." "What do you mean, John?" I asked, knowing full well what he meant. My heart was already pounding. "I haven't gotten off for four days," he said, taking me by the hand to the old leather couch in the TV room next to the kitchen. He was bending me over the back of it, pulling my sweaty shorts down. The leather was cold on my clit. He pulled my arm behind my back, gently but firmly. "Lots of sperm here. Do you want it?" "Oh, yeah. Please don't hurt me," I moaned as he began to root around for my pussy. I could feel sweat trickling down my legs - mine and his. The head of his penis began to slide into me, and I held still, willing him to go further. We didn't have much time. Chris would be home any minute. I could tell John wasn't going to take long to come. It felt fantastic, but I couldn't quite make it up the hill. "Play with my tits," I begged. He slowed down his thrusting and reached under my top, rubbing rough fingers on my nipples. At first it was the same problem as before. I wasn't quite ready, I couldn't relax, and his invading cock was hurting me. And then we found a rhythm. I started thrusting my pussy back up to him, and he was stretching me in places I had never been stretched before. His balls were slapping my clit, and he was pounding my cervix - it hurt like hell, and I was screaming for him to stop, but he was relentless, and my screams started turning into animal moans. Some faraway part of my mind worried about the neighbors hearing, but I was too far gone to care. I was about to black out when we both came. My first rational thought, as I came down from waves and waves of pleasure, was that I would always be faking it with my husband from now on, at least at some level. "Sorry," John was saying, "I couldn't stop myself. Your pussy is so fucking tight. I love it." He was stroking my ass, and I was flushing with the compliment. His gentle touch felt more illicit than the rough fucking he just gave me. He broke the mood by slapping me on the ass as he pulled out. He threw me a towel from the kitchen on his way out. The next time Chris went out of town, I called Taylor right away. I was in a trance as we ate dinner at their house; I had been daydreaming about laying on top of Taylor, sucking on her tits while John slowly filled me up and then started pounding me from behind. But as I was helping Taylor load the dishwasher, she said "Mom called just before you got here. She's not feeling well and wants me to come over. She lives about an hour away, so I'd better get going. Enjoyed it..." she said, and I realized she was expecting me to leave. And then John was with us, and they both pecked me on the cheek as I made my way to the car, barely getting out of their driveway before bursting into tears. An hour later, I was lying naked in my own bed, reading a trashy book with my big dildo under my arm, trying to get it to warm up. The doorbell rang. I put on a robe and answered the door. It was John. I instinctively looked out to the driveway - no car for the neighbors to see. "Don't worry, I walked." I led him up to the bedroom. "Yeah, you're a little sweaty. Would you like a shower?" "That would be great," he said. Soon we were both naked and soaping each other up under the warm water. I had my back to him and he was playing with my ass, when suddenly he turned me around and we started kissing. This felt dirtier than anything we had done before. I started stroking his penis, which was only half-erect. "Taylor wanted me to do her before she left," he said, a little sheepishly. "But I've got some left." "What if she calls your house while you're over here?" I asked. "Transferred the calls to my cell phone. But she won't call until she gets to her mothers, if that's even where she's going." "Why didn't I think of that?" I said, kneeling down to begin what I hoped would be a blow job to raise the dead. "Because you're not a serial cheater like me," he said, already beginning to moan. "I'm a filthy cheater, all right." "It's about getting pregnant. Once you do, it'll be all about the baby and neither Chris nor I will get any for a year. I know your type," he laughed. The sound turned into a gasp as I tugged his balls. Not too hard, just enough. We got out of the shower and dried off. I led him to my bed. Our bed. He noticed the dildo, picked it up, and laughed. "I can't compete with that!" "You're the real thing," I moaned as he got down between my legs and began to suck my clit. Than he began to fuck me with his tongue. I spread my legs and pressed his head down until he was gasping for air. He moved around and straddled me in a 69. "Will you give me a titty-fuck? I promise not to come until I'm deep in you." "Of course," I said, pushing my breasts together and making a warm tunnel for him to rut in while he sucked on me. "But isn't Taylor better equipped for that?" "Yours are firmer. And they're different. I love different," he moaned. I felt his arm move around the bed, as if looking for something, and then I felt the tip of my dildo entering me. "Oww! That's cold!" I cried, but in a moment it began to feel great, and my first orgasm of the evening began to gather steam. "You think Taylor didn't really go to her mother's?" I asked, when I had pushed John off and we were cuddling side by side under the covers, me slowly stroking his cock while we talked. "I don't know." "Is she mad? Did she find out about that time you practically raped me after we went running?" "Yeah, I told her. She acted like it made her hot, but I don't know. I'm sure we'll have a threesome again. Sometimes I like to not have her stage-directing me." "I'll be honest; it made me hot." "Are you disappointed it's just me tonight?" I thought about it. "No," I said quietly. "Anyway, women are supposed to like someone directing them. They like being submissive; it turns them on. They're hard-wired for it." "Oh?" I said, reminding him that I had his dick in my hands. "I'm just kidding," he laughed. And I was straddling him, like I did the first time on the beach. It wasn't in me yet; I was sliding over it. I sat up and reached for a hairband, and John stroked my breasts while my arms were in the air, putting my hair back in a ponytail. "Sure you are. Well, lie back. I need to be in control of this big thing for a change." And with that I squirmed around until the tip was just inside. My hands were on his chest, like that first time, and he was gripping my wrists as a peaceful look came over his face. Little by little, I let him inside, and bent down to start kissing him. My tongue was in his mouth as his penis invaded my vagina, slowly, smoothly, wetly. I was relaxed and open now, stretched out from the dildo and ready for a nice slow comfortable fuck. He put his hands on my hips, like we were two teenagers at the prom and we were doing a slow dance and I was just a little too tall for him. He started to suck my tits, and the pleasure started to come pouring in again. This time, I wasn't climbing the hill very fast at all, but I was enjoying every minute of it. I don't know how long we went at it like that; eventually I could tell he wanted to go faster and harder, but I kept him pinned down as I gradually picked up the pace. When I felt his balls slapping against me, I realized I had him all the way in, and suddenly I was overwhelmed, like my mind couldn't accept it. My eyes rolled back in my head and I started screaming. When I calmed down, I realized he still hadn't come. "Okay, lover, your turn. I've had my fun; I'm ready. Fuck me as hard and fast as you like," I said in his ear as he flipped us over. He was in the saddle now, and he pushed my knees up against my chest. Suddenly he withdrew and reached for a tube of lubricant I had on the bedside table. "What? Oh no, you're too big for that," I complained as he began to lube my anus with his greasy fingers. "Besides, that's not going to get me pregnant," I whined. Truthfully, the idea was beginning to excite me. "Taylor got most of the sperm tonight. You just said I could fuck you as hard and fast as I liked." "You also promised you wouldn't come until..." I remembered what he said. "... I was deep inside you. Well..." he began to push into me. "Oh my godddd," I moaned, clutching the sheets with my hands. The dutiful housewife in me hoped I could get any stains out of the sheets before Chris came home tomorrow, but the wanton slut in me began to stroke my clit and stick fingers in my pussy. It hurt like hell, but somehow I wanted to keep playing with myself, to take my mind off the pain, and suddenly I was flying over the hill, but still not coming. And then he pushed my fingers aside with the dildo, suddenly in my pussy up to the hilt with it, maybe halfway there with his cock in my ass. "Ahhhh! You're going to tear me in two!" I begged. "Sssssh. Relax. I won't hurt you." And I was riding the wave, beyond pleasure or pain. I came to, and he was sucking a nipple. I realized both holes were still full, but he was slowly stroking in and out. "Have you come yet, lover?" I asked, suddenly relaxed, sweaty, one hand on my chest. "No," he groaned. "Do it for me. Come in my ass," I commanded, and he grimaced, in his own trance that signaled the end. He pulled the dildo out, then himself, and he lay across me like a sleepy boy. Like a baby, I thought. "You don't mind some direction," I teased. 91 3.88/512345