Part 2.
Sunday morning.
Turning around at the squeak of a door hinge I see Rita in her dressing gown stood in the kitchen doorway, I'm holding a frying pan full of bacon halfway through preparing breakfast.
"Hi." She greets me sheepishly, a shy smile accompanying her quiet word. My friend is looking decidedly worse for wear after last night's debauchery. Smiling back I bid her a 'good morning' and offer a cuppa and bite to eat.
"Oh yes please...love the smell of your breakfasts...always gets me up."
Rita ambles to the dining table pulling up a chair and we fall into easy conversation. It's the morning after our eventful night and I'm detecting evidence of a guilty conscience as we chat.
She's avoiding eye contact and rambling on about anything and everything, which is what Rita does when nervous.
I let her go on a bit. I'm feeling confused and a little let down. After what we did together in the car I was so sure she had overcome her shy private approach to sex and would want me to join her and John in the bedroom, but just when it seemed about to happen Rita had chickened out.
I need to ask her why but must have patience and tact, she is very sensitive.
It's not until after we're through eating our eggs and bacon that Rita seems to run out of steam and the gabbing dries up, seeing my chance I'm about to ask the delicate question, but she gets to the issue first.
Taking a sip from her mug she places it down, staring into it for a moment while speaking in a soft quiet tone, "Pip...look erm...I'm sorry about last night...I just...I just couldn't you know?...in the bedroom?"
Seeing her struggling to get this out pricks my caring nature and although frustrated with Rita I once again have to consider her troubled past.
"Dont worry it's alright...really...I just thought since you'd...you know?...already in the car earlier...l thought you'd be ok with me in the bedroom...I must have misread the situation...dont worry about it."
Rita hesitates for a moment then looks up from her mug, and in that moment as her eyes meet with mine, she looks so dreadfully guilty.
"I'm sorry...I did try honestly but...I couldn't...I just couldn't...enjoy it...knowing you were watching."
She says 'enjoy it' in a hushed secretive way. I'm now even more confused, because Rita certainly seemed to 'enjoy' it in the car...unless.
Pushing the issue I make a point of this fact, albeit delicately, only to hear confirmation of a worrying thought that's suddenly wriggled its way into my mind.
"Pip I'm so sorry...I didn't know what else to do...I was uncomfortable with you just there in the car watching us...I know it means a lot to you and I didn't want to let you down so...so I...I pretended."
Incredulity hits me first, followed by anger, and I'm afraid that I let myself slip here, lose control of the situation.
Raising my voice and lowering my eyebrows in an expression of angry disbelief, "You faked it!"
As soon as the words are out my mouth I regret it, the mortified look on my friend's face still haunts me to this day, for I've hurt someone special who means a lot to me...in more ways than one...suddenly her vulnerability and childlike innocence are brought into sharp uncomfortable focus.
I, am the one in the wrong. And I feel so horrible as someone who trusts me goes to pieces before my eyes.
"Oh no...no no no...I'm so sorry...it's not John it's me...I'm sorry I couldn't relax with you watching...I...I've never faked it with him before...I just wanted to please you...you've both been so good to me..."
Rita rapidly descends into hysterics, her eyes beginning to well up with tears.
Reaching forward and grasping her hand with both of mine I attempt to calm her down using soft words, it takes a while but eventually Rita quietens enough for me to make myself understood.
Explaining that it's me who should apologise not her and that I was selfish in pushing the issue when she was anxious about it.
I've screwed up big time and I'm only now realising it. My friend, eager to please me, has gone through with something she's not comfortable about doing and then pretended to like it, all for my benefit.
This poor girl has spent most of her adult life being under the control of a sadistic man and what's happened here is clear evidence of the effect he's had upon her.
Continuing to calm Rita I make her promise that she won't do anything like this again, "If you ever feel uncomfortable about anything I want to do then please don't lie to me again...tell me...I won't be offended and it's better in the long run for us all...I don't want you to ever feel that you have to lie to me Rita...ok?"
She slowly nods, red faced and watery eyed. After I've calmed her down Rita begs me not to tell John and I agree so to save her embarrassment. However, I do later tell John what's transpired, we have no secrets between us. John fully understands, acknowledging it is nothing to do with his performance but Rita's willingness to please us.
He was also as surprised as me that she'd faked it, Rita certainly is good at deception, something that she's been forced to resort to while living with Carl.
And it's this skill with deception that later proves of great value when used against her cruel hubby, ironically for him.
We continue chatting, our drinks slowly going cold, so absorbed in each other. I learn more about Rita's love of the noise of sex. The auditory stimulation for my friend, proving to be much more important than visual as it gives her the privacy she desires. She shyly admits to touching herself while listening to me and John 'going at it' to use Rita's own words. I in return freely admit to my own solo fun as a result of her and John's noises.
Rita reminds me of the time young Chris had me in the ladies cubicle when she was next door listening, using this as an example of where her auditory voyeur fetish blossomed from.
As we hear John beginning to stir upstairs I steer the conversation back onto the previous nights car fun and probe something that has caught my attention, something that at first appears contradictory to Rita's claim that she prefers privacy.
While playing with John's cock as I observed from the passenger seat, Rita did seem genuinely excited and also quite comfortable with the act...unless she was pretending then also for my benefit?
"No...no really I enjoyed that...he's got such a nice big one...and oh my god it gets so hard doesn't it?"
She trails off into giggles and I join her, agreeing that my hubby is blessed with a nice one.
"You know sometimes it gets so hard...I'm sure it'd go through double glazing."
At this comment Rita descends from giggling into outright doubled up chuckles, tears now forming for an entirely different reason. My friend has a very contagious laugh and I too soon have tears of laughter rolling down my cheeks.
It takes a little while to catch our breaths and move away from the light hearted aspect of our chat, but when we've calmed down I have a question for Rita.
"So...your alright playing around while I'm there?... it's just the main event that you prefer privacy?"
Rita agrees with this and adds that she found the 'messing around' with John while I looked on, very exciting.
"I see..."
Trailing off as a mischievous idea takes shape, a sly grin beginning to form. Rita, reacting to my expression asks, "What?...what is it?"
Her words convey an element of expectant secrecy as she leans forward a little while speaking. Looking warily around at the kitchen doorway, if this is going to work John must not be aware of what I have planned for him, and we can clearly hear that he's getting up and will at any moment be on his way downstairs.
Leaning in closer to Rita and lowering my voice, "So...you'd be alright with you and me doing something for him together?"
Again she indicates this will be fine and asks what I have in mind?
Leaning further in towards Rita and whispering in her ear, her face lights up with a wicked grin as she takes in what I have planned.
"Oh yeah...he's gunna love that." She giggles.
Pulling back away from her just as John's footfalls can be heard thumping downstairs, "Keep it secret...don't let on what we're gunna do."
She nods and then I see her look past me and smile at John as he enters the kitchen doorway shortly before bidding my hubby a good morning. Turning in my chair towards him I say, "Oh hi honey...you alright?...you look erm... drained this morning."
Biting my lower lip and trying not to burst into giggles, it's difficult with my friend's sniggering in the background.
John appears not amused and ignores my question, asking one of his own, "What you two witches cackling at anyway?...I heard you all the way from the bathroom."
His serious attitude is made all the more comical by the fact John is only wearing boxers and looks as though he's just woken up from a coma, eyes half shut and a pained look on his face, no doubt as a result of the hangover he is surely suffering from, that and the physical exertions of our naughty night together.
Putting on my sweet innocent voice and giving him my cutest smile I say, "Nothing honey...would you like some breakfast?"
John looks suspiciously from me to Rita, who by this time is losing her battle with the giggles, and acknowledges his desire for something to eat.
Promising him to bring it through after suggesting he goes to the living room, John hesitates for a brief moment scrutinising us, in particular Rita, who has now lost the battle with her giggles.
Frowning before shaking his head in resignation, he ambles off towards the living room walking awkwardly with a slight limp, prompting me to have a private dig with Rita, leaning in and whispering to her that he'll be limping more this time next week.
And this, is the final straw as we both break down in a fit of giggles, John pauses briefly to glance back, tut, and shake his head some more before disappearing into the living room.
Once recovered from giggles for the second time that morning I reassure Rita that I will explain to John she really enjoyed our naughty night in the car but me being present is just not her thing and that from now on it will only be separate room fun.
During the following week I play down any chance of us doing anything all together and keep John's expectations of the coming weekend under a tight rein. Meanwhile at work with Rita we discuss what we're going to do to my hubby in hushed giggling manner, secret chat in a quiet corner of the canteen away from prying ears, acting like two giddy schoolgirls.
