I slumped over, in relief and guilt. Maybe some part of me hoped that I had been pregnant and would have to explain to Dan what I had done. At least that would probably assuage my guilty feelings. Now I would have to just live with what I had done.
"I think you should leave," I stated flatly.
"Jill, don't be mad," he pleaded.
"Just go," I said without turning around.
After looking in the bathroom and the spare room he went into our bedroom which was still unmade from the morning. He stopped just after the entrance and looked around then said, "Rough night?" I looked in the direction he was looking and saw my soiled underwear from yesterday and my vibrator lying on top of the dishevelled bed clothes.
I was horrified, how could I have been so stupid not to have cleared these things away before now. "Oh my God I'm so sorry." I said as my face burnt to a cinder with embarrassment.
During the course of the next nine months, she kept me informed in pretty graphic details of her get-to-getters with Cliff, and I kept responding that Cliff was not only having all the fun, but enjoying looking and touching her body, while all I could do was imagine what she looked like.
About a year ago, she wrote she was no longer seeing Cliff, but someone else had come into her life.
Which, as it turns out, was just fine with me.
Anyone watching us have sex would have known that Raquel was the one in charge. In addition to being on top and doing the most active movement, she had my wrists pinned above my head with her hands and her head dipped down to mine while she pistoned up and down on me. It was, in many ways, the ultimate depiction of predator and prey, with Raquel dominant and having her way with a restrained, submissive me.
Pulling her head up, Raquel smiled down at me, her mouth lustfully open as she continued her wonderful work on my cock.
"Phillip, if you will come back and make a home with me, I will do anything, and everything you ever ask of me. I will have absolutely no rules for you. You will have them all for me. Even if you say your love for me is dead, I know that it is my fault, and I will still love, and cherish you just as though you still thought of me in the way that you did before I did this heinous thing to you.
"I have nothing special to wear," I warned him.
"What you had on last night was perfect," he said.
"Oh, you mean nothing at all?"
He laughed. We finished our drinks while we dressed. I wore my beige sheath with spaghetti straps, with sandals. Left my wedding ring on. How depraved is that? He took me by the arm walking down the hall. I felt just like an Air Force Captain's wife but immediately remembered you might not want me any more.
The hotel had set up one of its convention halls for the occasion.
The so-called "physical check-up" was the start of it. That was over a week ago. I've just been going through the motions since, barely doing my motherly duties. At the start of the physical, everything seemed routine. In the examination room, where the table with the stirrups gapes at you, the nurse asked for a urine sample, took a chest X-ray, and a blood sample (no trouble finding the vein in my arm).
