The next week was a roller-coaster of emotions. Waves of intense guilt for the sex with Jeff hit me hard, very hard. I knew I could keep it a secret from Greg, but it also was tearing me up inside. I couldn't help but think that, if I was capable of so willingly hopping into bed with Jeff, what else was I capable of doing? That thought itself was very frightening, especially when I got to thinking too much about how pleasurable the sex had been, how intense the orgasms had been.
I found myself fantasizing about sexual experiences I had always wanted to try, but didn't. I kept recalling the end of my sophomore year in college, when a girlfriend of mine had asked if we could get together to experiment... and somehow it never worked out, and she didn't come back the next fall. The boyfriend my junior year who wanted to try anal sex. And always the thought of being with two men at the same time. For years I had wondered about them, even thought about trying to live them out, after I married Greg, but I figured that if it hadn't happened by now, it wasn't going to happen, so I slowly but surely said goodbye to all those fantasies. I thought they were gone forever... but they weren't.
The worst (or best, depending on how you look at it), were the erotic dreams that seemed to plague me almost every night. Flashes of a woman's legs spread wide, her pussy exposed and glistening, a well-manicured finger sliding up and down over the clit. The overwhelming feeling of being filled by a cock... from behind, from on top. My mouth opening and a wet cock sliding in, gagging me. Being eaten over and over again by a gentle, feminine tongue. And I had had the same dream again, three times now, of being with both Jeff and another man at the same time.
I was horrified with myself that I could find it so incredibly erotic. I tried hard to not think about the sex, but even found myself fantasizing about being with Jeff again, and at times felt justified for doing what I had done, and began to think I was making a bigger deal of it than it really was. All I knew was that alternating between the feelings of guilt and pleasure was exhausting.
And then, the phone rang. It was my mother, calling to remind me of the family get-together at their house for the upcoming weekend. It was marked on my calendar and only served to trigger memories and feelings, every time I saw it. I was dreading it, because I honestly wasn't sure how I would react to being around Jeff again. Would my mind recoil in disgust, even while my body got aroused? Would Jeff be able to keep it a secret, as he had assured me? I had visions of walking into Mom & Dad's house with Greg and Brayden, only to see the living room full of our family and friends watching a slide show of all the pictures and videos Jeff had taken. And what the hell was I thinking, letting him take photos? In the rush to get him out of the house before Greg got home, we hadn't had a chance to delete the ones with our faces in the photos. And even though Jeff told me they were deleted, something in his voice made me wonder.
Nevertheless, there we were on Sunday afternoon, walking into Mom & Dad's house, which was already full of family. Jeff and Denise were there, along with their kids, as well as our other brother Doug, who was recently divorced. There unfortunately weren't any aunts, uncles, or cousins to take some of the attention off of us. The knot in my stomach was the size of a volleyball and I was on guard for any signs of arousal. I had tried to wear a non-descript dress that didn't show off any of my curves. It looked frumpy but I didn't want to take any chances.
I have to say, I quickly began to admire Jeff – there was no hint, no intimation of what we had done. He was the typical Jeff, the Jeff that I knew all my life. There were no leers, no knowing looks or winks or smiles. Just Jeff. It was a huge relief and I began to relax, although my mind was occasionally throwing images of our time together up into my head, particularly of seeing myself in the mirror with Jeff behind me, eating and fucking me. I was able to focus on other things, and thankfully (strange to say), Brayden was very cranky, and so much of my time was spent keeping him amused and happy.
The intent of the party, as told by our mother around the dinner table, was to have one last get-together before they headed off to Palm Springs for eight weeks. We all groaned and gave them a hard time about being lazy golf-addicted retirees. After dinner, when I was helping Mom do the dishes in the kitchen, and she asked me to watch the house while they were gone. I didn't think anything of it, since my days were relatively free, other than caring for Brayden. But then she went into a lengthy discussion about all the indoor and outdoor plants that needed care, and finally told me that they wouldn't be taking Buddy, their golden Labrador retriever with them, and would I mind coming over once a day, in the mornings, to walk him? I tried to protest and made hints toward putting him in a kennel, but he was old and really didn't need much care, so I acquiesced.
After the dishes were done, we all sat out on the patio and watched the sun start to go down. It was at this time that Greg decided he wanted to make an announcement. "Oh no... here it comes... he found out somehow..." I thought, and felt my stomach start to knot up again, my hands starting to shake.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Sabrina, but I wanted it to be a surprise... I was selected for management, and will be promoted after I go through a two-week course in Chicago next month!"
I stared in disbelief, but then felt a huge wave of relief and jumped up to hug and kiss him. He had worked so hard for this and I was so proud of him. Everyone congratulated him, and out of the fridge in the basement my father brought up a bottle of champagne for us to celebrate with.
But something now had changed within me, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it until about an hour later as we were driving home. I was sad that Greg would be almost across the country from our home in Seattle, and that he would be gone for so long. I tried to console myself, knowing that I had Brayden to keep me company. And then the thought occurred to me that Mom and Dad would be gone soon, and so I would have that responsibility to keep me occupied while Greg was gone. Then a little voice in my head said, "Remember what happened the last time Greg was gone."
That was enough to throw me right back into the emotional roller-coaster for the remainder of the ride home. Thoughts of Jeff and I engaged in erotic sex at our parents house exploded inside my head, and I tried desperately to put the image out of my mind. This was going to be a long summer, I thought to myself.
Three days later, Denise called, and asked if she could stop by. I didn't think anything of it, as it had been a while since we'd had coffee together and I figured she wanted to gossip about the family get-together and how awful my mother's hair and cooking had been.
When she arrived, I thought I detected some nervousness in her voice and body language, but we soon were sipping coffee and indeed talking about the family get-together. She did keep crossing her legs and pulling her skirt down, something that made me wonder if this wasn't just a social visit. I got up to take our coffee cups to the sink, and she moved over to the couch, settling into a corner. I sat down in the opposite corner, and we talked a little more about the summer, about Greg's upcoming training in Chicago, and about me taking care of Mom and Dad's house. Then she got a thoughtful, anxious look on her face. She said, "Sabrina, I'd like to talk to you about something... pretty serious. I mean, it's not a bad thing, honest... but... it's something I really want to talk to you about. I'd like to think that you and I have become close, and that I can share things with you, and I know you'll keep them to yourself, despite what you may think inside."
The now-familiar stomach knot was back, and I started to get nervous. I said, "Of course, Denise. I will do my best to keep our talks confidential and I will be honest with you."
She smiled, and let out a long sigh of relief, and then said, "Thank you for that... I kind of thought you'd say that, but it means a lot to me to hear it from you, anyway."
I smiled at her, and she smiled back, despite our mutual nervousness.
"Sabrina, please don't be angry when I say this, but... Jeff told me how he helped you, a few weeks ago... with your breast milk."
My head was spinning before she even finished her sentence. I couldn't say anything and for some reason just kept staring at her, my hands shaking in my lap.
I finally said, in a very weak, unsteady voice, "What, um... did he tell you?"
She looked up and smiled, and said, "He told me everything, to be honest."
"Like... what do you mean, everything?" I was beyond confused and disoriented at this point.
"Sabrina, please know that I'm not angry at all – at all. In fact I'm actually very happy that it happened."
"What?" I said it out loud, but wasn't sure if I was saying it to myself or to Denise.
"I said, I'm glad that you and Jeff had some intimacy, honestly. I think it's great."
"You do?"
"Yes."
"I don't know what to say."
"I think I caught you off-guard, so maybe I can explain why I'm ok with it, maybe that will give you some time to compose your thoughts?"
I weakly nodded. She said, "Right before Jeff and I got married, we had a long series of discussions, which mainly centered around sex. We talked about sexual fantasies we wanted to live out, as well as people we wanted to have sex with, whether it was possible or not. We both came to the agreement that, if an opportunity ever came about for one of us to expand our sexual horizons, we should be free to take it, without any condemnation from the other."
"I'm not sure what that means."
