Rachel

Copyright 2009, All Rights Reserved

Author's note:

As per my usual, there is very little sex in this story and no wronged husband flying off the handle in an ingenious or violent fit of revenge. I hope you enjoy my humble offering, but if you choose to read, please note that in advance!

Rachel and I met in a bar in college. Yes...cliché, I know, but what are you going to do? It is what it is. For whatever reason, I was slightly less consumed with the ladies than most of my friends. Well, regarding the phrase "consumed with the ladies", though it's not necessarily a flattering choice of words still borders on self serving.

Let's face it. We weren't all that interested in their intellect at that point in our lives, were we? Don't get me wrong, I didn't miss an opportunity, but didn't spend quite as much time working to develop those opportunities as some did. But...I digress.

I was sitting there in Tobler's having a refreshing malt beverage with a few of my friends and, yes, evaluating the local talent. The place was packed as it often was that time on a Friday night. Rachel came in with a couple of her friends. They turned every head in the place, of course? And why? Because this is a Literotica story, of course.

Rachel was (and for that matter, is) very petite at 5'1". To this day, I don't know how much she weighs, because for whatever reason, I'm not allowed to know, but she wears a size 4 or 6 depending on the article. For those for which the statistic is important, I didn't know it at the time, but now know she is a 32B. She had gorgeous, very dark brown hair....almost black, and emerald green eyes that almost...but not quite...made you wonder if they were tinted contacts.

It was late September, so still reasonably warm outside. She was wearing a short leopard print skirt, a black summer sweater that was cropped, so you could see her midriff on occasion, but not so easily or so much of it that it looked trashy, and finally, a pair of very sexy black strappy sandals with 3" heels.

She walked in those heels much in the same manner that a real cowboy might get into a saddle on a horse... with the ease and grace of someone who was unfairly blessed with 5 people's share of confidence and poise, or had attended a finishing school of some sort. Not that I noticed her, mind you.

Rachel and her two friends, Allison and Alexis made their way to our table and asked if they could hang out there. Why did they want to hang out with us when we didn't know them, you may ask? Well, obviously, they found my friends Mike, Curt, and I very magnetic.

I won't describe Mike and Curt because that would make me uncomfortable. I mean...they're dudes, right? I, however, am as average as they come. I'm 5'10", 180, dark brown hair, blue eyes. I like to think that I have my share of self confidence without being arrogant. Anyway....they found us magnetic and came to ask if they could hang out at our table.

Now, some might thing that it may have had something to do with the fact that every seat was full and there was no table space anywhere else in the place except at our table, but I think that's just negative thinking. I'm going with the magnetism.

Rachel and her friends introduced themselves and so did we. It was one of those deals where it was obvious they just need the table space as a base of operations and they didn't have any real interest in getting acquainted with us, but eventually, we did find ourselves talking and laughing with them. It was really more of a group thing with no two people really pairing off to have individual discussions, though I DID find myself particularly drawn to Rachel, of course.

It was one of those situations where we liked one another, but didn't want to admit it to one another, or even, ourselves. After a couple of hours, some guys came in that they obviously knew and they made their excuses to move on. So much for my magnetism. Needless to say, the guys they joined were bigger, stronger, better looking, etc.

A few weeks later, I saw Rachel again. I was on my way to one of my marketing classes and she scurried past me as I was coming up the steps to enter there building where my classroom was located. She looked upset, so I wanted to say something, but wasn't sure she'd recognize me.

In the spirit of the bantering we had briefly enjoyed at Tobler's, I said, "You don't have to be upset. You were welcome to look me up any time you wanted."

She looked up at me surprised.

"Oh....you. I remember....Tobler's right?"

"Clearly that evening was life-altering for you."

"I'm sorry. Of course I remember you. I'm just upset at the moment. My boyfriend just broke up with me."

"I'm very sorry to hear it. It's been a long time for me, but I think I remember it's not fun."

"Not at all."

"I don't remember seeing you around here before on my way to my marketing class. Is this a fluke or have I just not been paying attention?"

"It's not you. I usually meet my boyfriend....ex boyfriend....after my economics class and spend lunch with him. Obviously, I won't be doing that anymore."

"Again...I'm sorry. Want to talk about it? I can skip my class and we can grab some coffee."

"No. Thank you. It's a kind offer, but I really just want to be alone now."

"No problem. It's a cliché, I know, but there are a lot of fish in the sea...not that fish interest you at the moment."

That one actually got a little chuckle from her.

"No...I'm not, but thanks anyway."

That exchange started a casual friendship between Rachel and I. I was very attracted to her, but if she reciprocated, she didn't make it known to me. I genuinely enjoyed her company in the exchanges we shared, and chose not to push the issue of trying to develop it into anything more. As you have no doubt surmised by this point, I do like to maintain the illusion of only moderate interest when it comes to the fairer gender.

Toward the end of the semester of my junior year and her sophomore year, we finally...at her suggestion I might add....got together for a cup of coffee. We both had a great time. I did, at least and certainly my impression was that she did. That it would become a more regular occurrence just kind of went without saying. I have a very dry and sarcastic sense of humor (I know....almost impossible to comprehend) and was lucky enough for her to "get" me.

I learned that her boyfriend broke up with her because he wanted to have a relationship with her, but also be free to occasionally "hook up" with other woman. Rachel, while no prude, had no interest in sex outside a monogamous relationship. Unfortunately, it was my distinct impression that Rachel clearly had me slotted in the "friend" zone. Part of what gave this away was that she, by this time, was very comfortable sharing with me how great the sex was with her ex. I didn't get the most explicit details, but did get enough to know that her ex was apparently the standard by which all future partners would be judged. Maybe it was a good thing to be in the friend zone after all. Obviously, no man wants any part of that.

We talked a couple of times over the Christmas break being that we were best buddies now and all. No...it's not Winter Break dang it, its CHRISTMAS break.

Believe it or not, we actually had a class together in the Spring Semester. Naturally, we sat together and studied together on occasion. She had started dating again, and yes...Darwin would have been proud. Her dates generally were either on scholarship for their athletic prowess and/or didn't need a scholarship since they had more money than Oprah. I thought about asking her why she never dated more normal guys, but how do you have that conversation without it seeming self-serving?

After our mid term in our shared class, on which we both did very well, we went to Tobler's for a few beers to celebrate. We had a great time and both got borderline drunk. I walked her to her dorm and started to say goodnight when she reach up and kissed me. I think it started as a "friend" kiss at the corner of the mouth, but she must have felt the same electricity that I did because it very quickly became the most passionate kiss I had ever experienced to that point. It lasted what seemed like hours, but I'm sure was just a minute or so. Rachel immediately grabbed my hand and started to pull me inside, but I demurred. That's right. Demurred.

"Rachel, that was the most incredible kiss I've ever had," I said, "but we've both been drinking. Any guy would be crazy not to want to go to bed with you, but I don't want to be like all the others. I won't progress this with you...anything less than completely sober."

Well, as any woman would have done, she immediately convinced me that she wanted this and I should just go with it, right? Not. She ran inside looking as if I had just told her I had Syphilis. Things were awkward between us for several days. She didn't sit next to me in class and I really missed our time together. After a week or so of this, I couldn't take it anymore. I decided to act.

"Rachel...we have to talk. I'm sorry if I shouldn't have kissed you. I guess I was caught up in the moment. It won't happen again."

"That's exactly the problem, though. I want it to happen again and haven't been turned down ever before. I'm very embarrassed."

"Turned down? You're kidding, right? I have had.....more than friend feelings for you since we met. You weren't turned down. I was just trying to respect you. I didn't think you were truly interested in moving out of the friend zone."

"Oh, my God. What's it going to take for you to realize that I have had a crush on you for months?"

At this point, needless to say, I was elated more than words could describe as well as being royally pissed off at the time we had wasted. Well...it wasn't a waste, but I am a guy, after all.

From that moment forward, we were seldom apart. Yes.....we did have sex within about 10 minutes of that discussion and yes....it was indescribable. For some reason, I had forgotten what a sexual super hero how her last serious boyfriend was. Probably because Rachel made me feel like the only man in the world. We dated all the next school year and moved in together following that. I graduated and found a job as a copywrite assistant in a local advertising firm. We got a small apartment together and Rachel concentrated on school while I got my career started. It turns out that the friendship we shared as the basis of our relationship served us very well. We loved one another, but we also liked one another. Who knew? Someone should write a book.

After Rachel graduated she found a great job as a sales assistant, and we got married and life was great. Due to the nature of this site, you no doubt want to know how our sex life was. Frankly, I didn't know it could be so good. Rachel was insatiable, imaginative, uninhibited...basically, all that any man could ever want, in my humble opinion. I certainly like to think that she was as fulfilled and satisfied as I was. We experimented with most everything two people could do together and had a very nice rotation with the positions and activities we most enjoyed. We regularly made love, as well as had sex, and even the occasional fuck...if you know what I mean.

We had been married for 8 years by this time. I was 31 and Rachel was 30. We had both been promoted a couple of times and were doing well in our careers. Our sex life leveled off somewhat, but continued to be fulfilling for both of us. We were both very proactive about communicating with one another about our wants and needs and both were very open to continued experimentation and meeting the needs of the other. I guess there isn't a ton of experimenting left to do after several years, but you get the point.

I we had both been especially busy with our respective jobs in the past few weeks. I was now a creative director for an advertising agency and we had been working hard to get a big new client up and running with a completely new marketing concept and ad campaign.

Rachel had been promoted by this time and was in sales for the web technology company for whom she worked. Basically, they developed and supported applications that facilitated telecommuting for other companies and their employees. Growing business you might assume? You would be correct, but whatever your assumptions might be on how to quantify it, they would fall short. Suffice it to say that Rachel had been working 60 + hour weeks for the last several months. They were about to launch a new application that would, with the addition of a monitor to an individual's home office, literally allow them visibility of their entire project team and vice versa. Rachel stood to make a commission in the hundreds of thousands from this one project. She was very excited and with good reason. She had two very big clients already committed and several smaller ones. She had worked very hard and was very talented. As you can tell, I am very proud of her!

I was particularly excited for Rachel to get home, because we hadn't been able to spend much intimate time together...in fact not much time at all in the past couple of months. I tried not to complain and I didn't hear any complaints from Rachel, either, so I assumed she was biding her time as well. I had a romantic evening planned of our favorite food catered in with candles, roses, etc. I even put some nice CDs on for listening and dancing. I don't like dancing all that well because I'm SO BAD at it!

Rachel was surprised when she walked through the door. For a brief instant, she didn't seem excited by my plans, which, again, for brief minute, disappointed me. I knew her work schedule hadn't eased up yet, but would very soon.

Whatever initial disappointment she may have had with my romantic plans, she either covered them quickly or got over it, or it was my imagination. We had a wonderful dinner and conversation and she even appreciated my efforts at dancing with her.

Needless to say, I was particularly excited for the activity following the dinner and dancing. I had laid out the negligee, a very lacy forest green teddy, that I most enjoyed and Rachel was nice enough to put it on for me. She had already freshened up and re-touched her make-up, etc. She was an absolute vision. We kissed tenderly and allowed things to build very gradually.

I'd like to think I did all the right things. I touched her everywhere, taking my time all the while, with my tongue and fingertips, and later the head of my cock. When things had built up where we couldn't stand it anymore, she swung her leg over me as I was laying on my back and took my cock into her hand making sure it was in exactly the right spot, then slowing...almost painfully...lowered her pussy onto me. I was in absolute heaven as she bottomed out and let out a big sigh with her eyes closed and her head back.

"Oh....My.....God..... Tim....your cock feels SO good in my dripping pussy!"

Now I ask you, what man doesn't want to hear his wife utter those words? Well, I'll tell you. A man whose name happens to be Kevin doesn't particularly want to hear them. My...our last name is Dennis for whatever it may be worth to you. Oh...and did I happen to mention the sexual god to whom we referred earlier happens to be named Tim?

Rachel's eyes opened up immediately as she realized what she had said. I had no idea what to do, so I did the lamest thing I probably could have...pretended not to notice. She, maybe taking the queue from me, pretended not to have said it. How in the heck was this going to play out?

As it happened, I had a very tough time remaining erect after that. Yeah, I know. Unbelievable, right? I kept trying for appearance sake for a few minutes, but then just laid back and begged forgiveness.

"I'm sorry, baby. I guess I'm just still very tired."

"It's ok, Kevin. I understand and I am, too. I so much appreciate all the effort you put into this wonderful evening. Things will be better again, soon."

"I know they will. Thanks for understanding."

"I do understand. Goodnight, baby."

"Goodnight"

We played the game and both rolled over with a cursory effort at making physical contact with one another for a few minutes. ...both of us pretending that what had just happened had not happened.

The following morning, we got up about the same time as we usually did. Rachel seemed to be going out of her way to appear normal. I did the same. I didn't want to make any assumptions one way or the other, but the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if, in fact, Rachel was even aware of having addressed me by a different name while in the throes of passion? If she was aware that she had done it and it was a simple mistake, it was obviously beyond unfortunate, but why would she not have immediately apologies with some sort of remark about having her mind on a work situation involving someone by that name? You may think I'm being paranoid in even thinking something as small (yes...and also as huge) as that would be an indicator of infidelity, but this was VERY unlike Rachel. She always focused on me while we were making love and made me feel like the only man in the world. I didn't want to make any moves until I knew what I was talking about.

I left the house with a very enthusiastic goodbye kiss from Rachel and got on the phone as soon as I was out of her site. I did some digging and surfaced the names of a couple of private investigators that had a good reputation and made arrangements to meet with them both that same day. I was moving quickly. If there was, in fact, something about which I should be concerned, I wanted to find out right away and hopefully, before any tracks could be covered.

I settled on an agency and immediately gave them permission to bug my house, both our cars, etc, and they agreed to go straight to work. The detective was John Phillips and he seemed a kind man, who enjoyed his work, but hated the circumstances that put him in the employ of his customers. He said it could take a few weeks, but that often, if there was anything to "find out" it happened within a few days. Now, I have to ask....does anyone in this situation ever get any work done? I mean honestly?

I thought about how I might try to be normal around Rachel until I got some results and about how I'd explain a private detective bill to her if this turned out to be all a big mistake. In the end, I decided I could not act anything close to normal around her until I knew what was going on.

So...I did what any self-respecting guy would do. I made up a business trip. I called Rachel at a time when I knew she was likely to be unable to pick up and apologized profusely and told her that I needed to be on location for a commercial shoot because my counterpart who ran the customer's account had come down sick. Hey...at least it was something.

I told John to call my cell when he knew something and checked into a local hotel where I promptly spent 3 very sleepless nights. I talked to Rachel as little as I could during that time. I may as well have spent the days there, for all the work I got done. Finally, I got "the" call. I went to John's office and sat down with my stomach in knots.

"I'm very sorry, Kevin. I hate this part of my job. I'm afraid your wife is seeing another man and it appears that it has been going on for a few weeks now. I have a written report here as well as audio and video surveillance disks, but I always advise against looking at it."

"Thanks for your help, John. I had hoped I was wrong, of course."

There was nothing to gain by lingering, so I took the file and disks back to my hotel room and called my boss on the way asking for the next couple of days off. We had become friends and he could tell it was a big thing or I wouldn't have asked without notice. He told me to take the next two days and the following week if I wanted and he'd be there if I wanted to talk about anything.