Note: This story took a long time to come together, but here it is, the conclusion, which will only really make sense if you read the first four chapters. There are some mistakes along the way, so forgive me. Of course all characters are 18+ and this work depicts fantasy. As always, comments are encouraged and appreciated. Thank you
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"I know something you don't know." It was Molly's sing-song, childish voice, taunting me over the phone a few weeks after the party. I had debated answering the phone at all. After the night of the fundraising party, Monica and I had reconnected in our affections for one another, though admittedly neither she nor I ever discussed how we had ended the evening with her pretending to be the pretty young blonde now on the other end of the phone.
Also Molly had basically left me alone, allowing me the lie that I wasn't thinking of bending her over my desk every time she walked into my classroom. I wondered if she had lost interest or had just been distracted, but here she was calling me late at night again as I tried to get some grading done.
"I'm sure you know much that I don't." I tried to sound cold and unconcerned, but I knew that whatever she was holding over me was bound to be significant.
"You're such a professor," she said in mock exasperation, "sometimes I wonder why I am even interested in having your baby."
My blood froze and my mouth went dry as I sat in my home office slack jawed. I couldn't force any words out, and time seemed to stand still.
She giggled over the phone, "That got your attention."
"Molly are you..." I couldn't bring myself to say it and her giggles turned into guffaws as my sentence hung unfinished in the air.
"Sadly no, if my body is to be believed," she sighed, "So I guess you get to relax and pretend like cumming inside little ole, unprotected me was a mistake instead of one of the hottest things you've ever done."
My heart started beating again and I couldn't help letting out an audible sigh of relief. Being scared she was pregnant and then hearing she wasn't basically meant anything else she could say would pale in comparison.
"So," she continued when I hadn't said anything, "Aren't you at all curious about my secret?"
"I suspect you're going to tell me what it is whether I am curious or not."
It was her turn to let out a sigh of exasperation, "Fine then, if you're not interested, then I guess you'll have to find out on your own."
Remaining cool and distant, I said, "Yes, I suppose I will."
"One thing though," she said, "Just how much do you know about your wife? I bet I know more than you."
"Wait what?" I couldn't help but saying. "What do you mean?"
She laughed at my sudden turn around. "Oh, now you wanna talk, well guess what? You missed your chance." And she hung up.
I had no idea what she was up to, but of course it made me nervous to consider. I contemplated calling her back, but before I could my phone alerted me to a text message.
I opened a gif of a man slapping a young woman before kissing her hard on the mouth. Her message read, "I hate when we fight, but look forward to making up." I watched the three second scene play out over and over, troubled by its violence, but undeniably aroused.
I wanted to reply, to find a gif of my own to send that would say something playful to keep the game going. Truthfully, though, I'm not very good at communicating that way, it made me feel like an old man, so I let it go. Molly would reveal whatever she was intending in due time.
She wasn't pregnant, apparently, so that was something. I should cut my losses and try to move on. Even as I thought this, however, I opened the previous pictures Molly had sent me of herself, her young naked body, her painted mouth. Then I stopped myself and forced myself to join my wife in bed, aroused with images of the wrong woman in my mind.
The next morning I woke from a dream of Molly grinding in my lap, her blue eyes smiling down at me as she kept saying, "Don't you want to fuck me?" It felt good, what she was doing, but I was fighting it, trying to get her off of me, afraid my wife would walk in and catch us. My eyes shot open with a start to find Monica snuggled against me stroking my cock through my boxers as I slept.
As I struggled to catch up to my surroundings, she offered a slow smile, "My, my, that must have been some dream you were having. Was it about me?" Her hand hadn't stopped moving.
"I..." I glanced around the room and back to her, looking into her eyes. "I mean..." Waking up like that was not conducive to lying.
She blushed a bit and said, "It's okay if I'm not in your dreams... but will you tell me who it was?"
Being the morning of a workday and not the night after too many drinks at the party, I didn't really want to take the chance of being honest. I had called out Molly's name accidentally after the party, but Monica was coaxing it out of me and turned on by it. Who knows what mood she was in now, and I didn't really want to undermine the work we had done on our relationship after that night.
Clearly I was contemplating too long because she said, "I guess you want it to be your little secret." She released my cock from my boxers and wrapped her slender manicured fingers around it. "That's okay, you can have your secrets."
I relaxed into my pillow and let her work her hand over me. Letting the uncomfortable dream slip away and trying to focus on the moment.
As my cock grew in her hand, and her pace increased, Monica said nonchalantly, "I'm having lunch with your student, Molly, today."
My eyes shot open and I could feel my cock twitch in her hand, but all I managed was a labored, "Oh?"
I could hear the smirk in her voice as she continued, "I think you might have liked me mentioning that."
"Monica..." I let out a long breath, trying to get her to drop it, but my invocation of her name sounded more like a moan of longing than an admonition to stop her train of thought.
"Maybe," she snuggled in closer and nibbled my ear as I continued to stare at the ceiling, "I'll invite her home with me, what do you think? Think she might benefit from a woman's guidance?"
"I don't..." it was getting difficult to think. Honestly it wasn't clear if Monica was turned on by the thought of Molly in bed, or if she was simply turned on by having discovered a weakness in me and exploiting it.
"Imagine coming home today," continuing to paint a picture in my ear, "And finding me splayed out on our bed with that mop of blonde curls buried between my legs."
"Fuck," I gasped and bucked my hips up into her hand.
"Of course her cute little ass would be up and presented to you as you watched. Could you resist fucking her?"
"No," I answered truthfully, already knowing I was powerless to resist Molly. As much as I was enjoying this, I wanted more and in a sudden move rolled over on top of Monica, spreading her thighs with my hips as her silk nightgown rode up to her waist.
"Oh my." It was her turn to gasp as the underside of my rock hard cock slid along the length of her wet folds and ground into her. I pulled back and found her entrance, sliding all the way into her in one quick stroke.
Her lithe legs wrapped around my waist and pulled me into her as I hovered above my wife looking down into her eyes.
"Is this what you wanted?" I grunted as I sank into her, "Or would you rather it be Molly I was fucking?"
