Too Many Red Flags

THIS IS A STORY OF FICTION. ALL RELEVANT CHARACTERS ARE 18+. PLEASE

***************

Matthew Rosen was seething. His fiancee, Rachel, wasn't picking up her cell phone. The tracker he discreetly put on it displayed her exact whereabouts. Eighteen months ago, he met her at Starbucks, where she was waiting on her Chai Tea Latte. 4 months ago, he asked her to marry him. Surprising her with the 18 karat gold, 1 karat diamond ring. But now, standing outside the restaurant, he wondered why she avoided his calls and texts. Lately, Rachel would decline his invites to go out somewhere, saying she was too tired, or classes were stressing her out.

*********

At 23, Rachel Evans was now in Graduate school, pursuing a degree in Nursing. Not what one might consider a model-looking type, she was still attractive. At 5'4 115 lbs, Rachel was always the reserved type. Not a party animal, she was more of the home type. Since her father died, it has just been her mother, herself and her little sister living in the house. Aside from mid-length, brunette hair, green eyes and her "Harry Potter" type round-rimmed glasses, her 34C breasts were perky enough to garner ogling looks from men. Her legs though, were the 'crème de la crème. Looking more like a school marm, her beauty was enticing.

Each red flag, each declination followed by excuse after excuse, was wearing thin on Matthew. Even before he proposed to Rachel, she was exhibiting red flags he had brushed aside. Assuming her school schedule, part-time job and family life were the root causes, it never really bothered him, at first.

Then a Friday here, a Saturday there, the excuses of "My mom has an overnight shift, I need to be home with Gwen," began as her go-to. Eventually, Matthew received his first major red flag when he was driving home from work about 7 pm one Tuesday evening and swore he saw her Honda Civic parked in the parking lot of a motel.

When he got home to his parents house, the sight of the "University of New Hampshire" sticker on the window, gnawed at him. Now 8:30pm he drove back to the motel. Driving by, the two vehicles that had been there, were now gone. Deciding to try her cell phone, he dialed and she picked up after the second ring.

"Hello?" Rachel answered, her angelic voice sounding hoarse.

"Hey there beautiful," Matthew said, his words, loving.

Realizing it was her fiance, for a brief moment, Rachel paused before responding.

"Oh hey," she said, the enervation in her words, prevalent.

"I had called you, but you didn't answer," he stated, ready to ask the question he didn't want to ask. "I'm not trying to accuse you of anything, but I could have swore I saw your car at the Lonely Dove Motel."

After a brief silence, Rachel let out an exasperated response. "No. Just had a long day at school," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. Still feeling the pulsations in her loins from the fucking she had, literally, just endured, and her swollen vulva, unable to block the cum still dripping out of her little by little, there was no way she would admit that. "I've been home with my little sister," hopeful the lie would suffice.

Feeling her phone vibrate, a text notification flashed on her screen. Opening it, it simply said, "Saturday evening. DiCocco's restaurant 6:30pm. Afterwards, a long night of sex. You know how I like you dressed, Sweetheart."

After deleting it, like she was always told to do, she let out a worrisome sigh, but responded. "I will. Purple or black high heels?" She countered.

"Surprise me," it said. "I did enjoy our time earlier today. I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you, too," she typed, not truly meaning those words.

Forgetting Matthew was on the other end, Rachel lost herself while returning the texts.

"Rach? Rach? Are you there?" His concerned voice rousing her from her stupor.

"Yea.. um yea.. I'm..I'm here..sorry," Rachel quietly said. "Look I need to go. I need to get Gwen ready for bed." Ending the call, Rachel sighed.

**************

An hour later, while watching Netflix and eating popcorn, a knock apeared at the door. Unsure of who'd come over this late, she went to the door.

"Who is it?" She soundlesssly asked.

"It's me," Matt's voice sounded.

Opening the door, she saw her fiance standing on the porch. When Matt fully noticed Rachel, she was wearing her sweats, and a UNH sweater, with a WildCat imprinted on it. Her hair was messy and her glasses clung to her face. But what really caught his attention was what he noticed. Through her beauty, Matthew saw how tired she looked. An exhaustion he couldn't fathom. Harkening it to her busy life, obviously, no suspicions were aroused.

"What.. What are you doing?" She quietly asked. "Gwen's asleep."

"I just wanted to see you. We haven't been with each other much," Matthew admitted.

"Look, I'm just stressed out with school, the engagement. It's not you Matthew," she voiced, unable to look him in his eyes.

"Well, I was thinking we could to the coast Saturday," his proposal, filled with hope.

Remembering the text from earlier, she immediately, but almost too choreographed, declined.

"Umm NO! I..I..I can't," She muttered. "Mom..... has to work that night," she rebutted. knowing that was a lie.

"Rach, I thought she had had Saturday off?" He queried. "You said last week, you'd ask her if she had that weekend off, for us."

Now getting flustered, and still feeling the after effects of the fucking she encountered a few hours earlier, she snapped.

"Dammit Matt, ever since you proposed, you've been very clingy. You are being controlling. I thought she was off but I guess she took an extra shift. I..I..found out earliier," She said, not believing her own lie.

After a few back and forths, Matt ultimately left. Standing on the porch, he paused, rubbing his chin, the wheels of suspicion, turning. Inside, Rachel stared out the edge of the drapery, a mix of shame and desperation on her face.

***************

The next couple days, Rachel made the effort to spend time with Matt. Brunch, or hanging out at his parents house, she was hoping to quell any suspicions. But within herself, she was fighting her own battle. Telling Matt she has had only one sexual partner in her life. but wanted to wait to be intimate with him until they got engaged, has been weighing heavily on her. The few times her and Matt have had sex, she faked her way through it. Telling Matt, she doesn't like missionary, he'd enjoy himself pumping his cum into a condom, while holding her hips from behind. 20 minutes and he's done, satiated for the next few days. Only marrying him for convenience, and to disguise the other life she's lived since she was 18, Rachel had her moments that she thought about ending the engagement. When they were close to earning their degrees, they would set a wedding date.

Each time those thoughts crept up, she remembered that night in the bedroom, where the sweating, panting, and moaning occurred. "Before you marry the idiot," she'd hear from the grainy, baritone voice, also sweating and panting above her," You will stop using your birth control pills a few months before your wedding. I plan on putting a baby in you, young lady."

Unassertive, she nodded in the affirmative, her eyes filled with apprehension.

One night though, after leaving Matt, she would text her mother to say she was going out with Chloe, her best friend, and would be home late.

An hour later, though, the usual sounds from a swanky motel room just outside of town were in full swing. The headboard, banging the wall, and the bedsprings, annoyingly singing their tune, fought to drown out the moans and grunts combatting them.

"YES!YES!! Fu..Fuck me!," Rachel would lustfully pant, her pantyhose clad legs flailing in the air. The rotund body, between her legs, intent on driving his length as hard and as deep as he could into her, looked down on the young woman as she was basically encouraging him.

"Unh! Unh! Unh! Unh! Unh!," her sinful moans would echo, only matched by each grunt from the older man's lungs. Being in missionary, he loved watching Rachel's face contort and grimace, knowing that even though she's always been reluctant and hesitant, she undoubtedly gets into their intimacy, wholeheartedly.

With her hands up and under his prone body on top of her, Rachel's hands and fingers drape over his shoulders, holding onto him, each powerful thrust into her. Finally though, the finale she was anxious to have, occured.

With a few more powerful thrusts and Rachel uncontrollably moaning, "YES! OH YES!!" The roar finally occurred, loud enough to waken a deaf man.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!," He'd bellow, hermetically sealing their two lower regions together. Releasing pulse after pulse of his pent semen into her, just like mostly happens, his quaking above her was sustained. Cooing like a lover who was deeply in love, although the fact she wasn't in love, Rachel felt each splash coat her cervix.

Finally, his gyrations would slow, where eventually calmness overtook the recent chaos. Raising himself off of her, her hands releasing their grip on his shouiders, thus falling off on to the mattress, he pulled out. The typical, white, foamy froth, coating the length and girth of his penis, mixed with her vaginal juices, comes to light. Immediatly a deluge of cum flows from Rachel's well-used, swollen pussy. Soiling the mattress and linens of the motel room, the laborious breathing from the hour long fuckfest continued.

Seeing him dressing off to the side, Rachel was finally about to move herself, scooching to the other edge of the bed. Standing on her wobbly legs, she reached down and pulled her run-laden, cum-stained pantyhose back over her tiny waist. Pulling her lace bra over her swollen tits, she clasped it back on. Buttoning her dress and retrieving the one heel that popped off during their intimacy. She completed fixed herself up.

Retrieving her purse, the two share a sensual kiss they have shared, repeatedly, over the years.

"You couldn't wait till Saturday, could you Rachel?" A lewd, libidinous glare appearing on his older face.

"Grampa," she quietly sighed, "I..I.. just needed you tonight. Matt has been hounding me lately, and I think he's getting suspicious,"

"I must admit," the old 63-yr old gray-haired man, welcomed, "I never expected you to initiate this meeting. Obviously, I'd never turn this down," he would lewdly say, flicking the hemline of her dress upwards. The glossiness of her pantyhose made another brief appearance as the old man marvelled in his granddaughters look of exhaustion.

"I'd better get home," the young co-ed remarked. "Mom thinks I'm with Chloe."

Smiling, he added. "The day your mother finds out, if she ever does, is going to be quite interesting."

Leaving, the two go their separate ways.

**********

That Saturday morning of the night in question, Rachel was at lunch with her fiance. Explaining to him the evening she had planned, Matthew had tried inviting himself over, so as, to keep her company whilst watching over her sister.

"Matt, no," she started. "Gwen and I need to spend time together. Eventually, you and I are getting married and I won't, most likely, be living at home anymore. So please understand." Unable to look Matthew in his eyes, she had hoped her lie would be sufficient.

But in his mind, Matt was intent on figuring out yet, another red flag. The constant denials and the excuses, were beginning to make Matt question their relationship. He loved Rachel, but this was getting bothersome. The whole lunch, Rachel seemed distant. Obviously her mind being somewhere else, was noticed by Matt. Picking at her food and her engagement ring shining on her left finger, Matt sensed there was something she wasn't telling him. Breaking the ice once more, the 24 year old, recent college graduate probed Rachel.

"Look," he started, keeping his voice low. Placing his hand on hers, she reactively flinched. Noticing that, Matt was taken aback.

"I know something's bothering you. You seem distracted," his voice, tinged with concern.

Remembering the other night in the motel, and her overweight grandfather fucking her, the guilt, shame, and worry could all be felt in her wornout body. Sure, she didn't see her grandfather yesterday, but the lingering pulsations in her quim could still be felt by her. Knowing what was in store for tonight, the lies she's been telling Matt, even she knew, were growing stale. Diverting her attention to him, she quietly spoke.

""Honey. I'm..I'm sor..sorry. Just got a lot on my mind," her submissive voice barely noticeable. "School, us, work. I'm just tired."

The 'tired' portion of her excuse had nothing to do with school, them or even work. Rachel always had an easy time in school, garnering straight A's. Her little job at the cafe, was just extra money for 4 hours a day, 3 days a week in between classes. No, her 'tiredness' stemmed from the sweaty, incest-filled sex she would have 3-4 times a week with her grandfather, George.

Having begun their affair her senior year of high school, it was something Rachel never wanted. At 18, she was Student Body Treasurer, one of several valedictorians, and well-liked in school. Her parents were having difficulties in their marriage, so Rachel would spend weekends with her grandparents. The first time George and Rachel were intimate, Rachel protested, heavily.

"No grampa!" She would silently shout, as her grandmother slept down the hall. "We can't! I'm.. I'm your grandd.. granddaughter!" At 18, she was always very shy, but she did know right from wrong. Weakly threatening to expose him to her parents, the oldest trick in the book was played.

"Rachel, do you really want to destroy your family? Think about the fallout. Your mom and dumbass father are having major issues, and Gwen is not even 3 yet. If you say anything, everything else crumbles."

Looking at her grampa, silent, fear in her eyes, he added, "I'm almost 60, jail isn't a worry for me. But then, who cares for your grandmother? I mean theres no harm in 2 lonely people enjoying each other."

Sitting there on her bed, with her quilt over her, Rachel was still bothered. "Grampa, it's just wrong. No..Please," Her pleas falling on deaf ears. Eventually, after a few weekends of persistence, and her parents continuous fighting, Rachel, against her own better judgment, gave in and, ever since,, the two have been able to hide their torrid affair. Two years later, her grandmother died, just before her 21st birthday.

Snapping out of her reverie, the buzzing restaurant brought her back to reality. Matt, just staring at her, was waiting for an answer.

"What.. what did you say?," she faintly remarked, not hearing one word he'd said.

Exasperated, Matt went silent the rest of the lunch. Feeling the tension between the two, Rachel reached out for Matt's hand. Tenderly scraping her neatly manicured nails over the top of his hand. Rachel, in her quiet demeanor, spoke.

"Honey, I'm sorry. My...mom just needs me. Gwen can't be home at night since she's only 8. Gwen has been struggling with daddy's death, as have we all. I just need you to understand and not push. Please."

Knowing most of what she said was true, the nagging feeling she wasn't telling him EVERYTHING, and the fact she hasn't been 100% forthright about her whereabouts, Matt wasn't fully onboard. He was determined to find out what else was underlying. After a few more minutes of small talk and paying their bill, Matt drove Rachel home.

*****************

It was 5:30 and Rachel was applying her makeup. Hearing a light rapping on her door, she acknowledged it.

"Come in," her angelic voice called out.

Her bedroom door opening, the sight of her mother, Jen, entered.

"Hey Sweetie," Jen began. "I didn't know you were going out tonight," she stayed. quizzically.

Ready for the questions, Rachel's rehearsed answers were at the ready. "Yea. Chloe and me are going dancing without the boys tonight," as she moved over to her bed. Fiddling with the sun-beige colored pantyhose in her fingers, Rachel proceeded to start sliding them over her amazing, petite legs. "I might stay over her house so I'll let you know," she added, an overnight bag packed and ready to go.

Nodding, her mother responded, "Is everything ok with you and Matt?" Her question, pointed.

With a slight hesitation, that Jen noticed, Rachel exclaimed, " Yes, mom we're fine. I mean he's driving me crazy sometimes, how clingy he's being. But... I don't know," her eyes avoiding her mothers.

"Well just be safe," her mother said.

"Can you do me a favor, please?" Rachel asked. As Jen nodded, Rachel continued, "If Matt stops by, please don't answer the door. Just tonight, I want a little freedom away from his constant neediness."

Agreeing, her mother said she'd handle it. After her mom left the bedroom, Rachel continued getting dressed. Making sure the lavender bra was snug over her perky tits, Rachel reached for the purple front-button dress. Twirling uneasy in the mirror. the thought of her grandfather ravishing her well-used pussy bothered her. After making sure it looked good on her, she stepped into the 4" purple "fuck me" pumps. Clasping the anklet to her anklet, she grabbed her phone.

"I'll be at the restaurant by 6:30, grandpa," she posted. After applying a light layer of pink lipstick, Rachel looked down at the engagement ring on her left finger. Just to spite her fiance, her grandfather makes her wear it when he's fucking her. Seeing the sparkle ebb from the diamond, a sigh escaped her throat.

"I'm so sorry Matthew," she whispered aloud, "I just don't want any issues between you and my grandfather." Looking off to space, she spoke to no one in particular.

Grabbing her purse, she left the house and got into her car. Leaving, she was so ensconced about her promptness to the restaurant, she didn't notice Matthew's sister's car, a few houses away.

**********

Seeing Rachel come out of her house, Matthew was intent on finding out the truth. How she was dressed, Matthew was in awe of her stunning beauty. Her round-rimmed glasses, not normally what one would consider "attractive", fit her face perfectly. Her dress, flowing off her body, accentuated the purple pumps on her tiny feet. Even in the dusk setting in the sky, the shininess of her pantyhose was not hard to miss. As she got into her car, he restarted his. When she started down the street, Matthew proceeded to follow her.

Staying at a distance, he watched as Rachel made her way to whomever she was meeting. How she was dressed, it was clear she had a date with someone. And it wasn't him. For 20 minutes, every left, every right, made his pulse rate go higher. Red flag, after red flag, was already stoking a fire in him.

"Who is she cheating on me with?" He said to himself, as his hands gripped the steering wheel. "Her constant denials and avoidance of me are starting to become clear," his aggravation, setting.

Finally, he received a ping on his phone signalling she pulled into DeCicco's restaurant. In the bustling display engulfing downtown, this restaurant wasn't super elegant. Realizing the establishment she was at, and how overdressed she was for it, his interest really peaked. Pulling down a side road, he stopped his car, but watched from afar as his fiance walked up to the restaurant.

Not knowing whether to just barge in a immediately confront her and find out what the heck was going on, he decided to play it out. Waiting 10 minutes, he got out of his car, painstakingly making his way to the restaurant. Outside, he could see the patrons and workers going about their evenings. Couples enjoying each other, pleasant chaos occurring, a normal Saturday evening, Matthew scanned the inside.

There, in the middle of the restaurant, off to the left side he saw them. Rachel, and a man he didn't initially recognize. 2 glasses of wine between them, the sight of the man with his back toward him, made his eyes get big.