Chapter 11

Monica was amazed at the different sleep patterns of her men. Jim liked his space. If he wasn’t on top of Monica, grinding into her from front or rear, he’d be on the far side of the bed and lost in his dreams. Cole, on the other hand, took over the entire bed, even the oversized king that filled half his bedroom. More than once Monica had been pushed off of the man’s bed as he rolled and tumbled across the mattress over just a few hours. It was worse when he slept at Monica’s while Jim was at work, and waking the man and forcing him to move over was just a temporary fix. And now there was Greg. Every time she had woken in the middle of the night, and that happened many times each night she was with him, she found Greg tucked into her side. Often cuddled into a spooning position, but always with at least an arm or leg draped over her. Sure he snored, but not as bad as Cole, and his physical presence next to her was comforting. Except that her night-time presence in Greg’s bed forced Monica to admit what was happening in her life.

Just thinking about this made her recoil, caused her to rethink the woman she had become. No question about it now. Sleeping with a guy made the relationship more real than when it was just a few hot hours in his Jacuzzi. Three days into the work week, three mornings waking up with Greg at her side, and although nothing had really changed in her life, she was forced to recognize that Greg was more than just an anomaly who would soon fade away. More importantly in her mind was Greg acting as though her presence in his bed was a welcome thing, their relationship somehow growing stronger. Instead of Greg stepping back and reminding Monica that she was just his temporary go-to girl, he had cleaned out a part of his closet for her to use. Even his master bath now had an empty drawer for Monica to fill with her necessaries. Yet she hesitated to put even a brush in the drawer, worried that by doing so she’d be admitting to a failed marriage, and she didn’t want to do that. At least not yet, not out loud.

That she still took her marriage to Jim seriously was proven by the many times she woke up in the night. Well, many times in the morning since she never made it to Greg’s place until about midnight. Just as Jim was checking into work, Monica was leaning into Greg’s arms. She knew Jim’s work habits, knew he wouldn’t call to check up on her, wouldn’t do a surprise drive by at 3a.m., but she still woke up a half dozen times, worried that somehow Jim would find her missing from home and bed. She’d check her phone, smile at Greg’s sleeping form, and somehow go back to sleep for another hour before waking again. It was no way to have an affair, but she figured her nervousness would pass.

Her first night with him, her first long dark morning in his bed, was peaceful. No sex, just Greg asking what had happened and accepting her silence as answer enough. She could have talked about the attack in her living room, or perhaps about Jim taking her to a New Year’s party that included more group sex than anything she’d been a part of since high school, but she chose silence, and Greg accepted that. Not happily, of course. He wanted to know, would ask the occasional prying question about Jim or Cole, about what had changed and why she finally allowed herself to not just fuck him but to drive over and sleep with him. Her silence, her shrugs and denials, left Greg unsatisfied, his scowls of discontent filling the room as much as her mute shrugs, but still he took her into his arms and let her be.

For the first couple of nights anyway. Wednesday morning Greg had woken early and pulled Monica into his arms, spooning her from the rear and easily slipping inside of her. She was a little shocked, Greg not even leaning in for a kiss or warning of what he was about to do. Of course her body was ready, her twat seeming to always be just wet enough to allow entrance to whatever happened to be the right shape or size. Monica had quickly awoken and was arguing in her mind about whether or not she wanted to participate as Greg pushed in deeper and pulled her ass tight into his crotch.

Only a minute into his lovemaking, with hardly even time for Greg to embed the full length of his cock inside of her, he had groaned out Monica’s name and rolled over on top of her. Monica could feel Greg’s flow of cum as his balls emptied into her. She smiled as he finished up, his hard thrusts slowing as he finally collapsed onto her back and again whispered out her name. It was nice and comforting, and yet Monica couldn’t find any pleasure in the sex itself. She was still haunted by the attack of just days before, and of course by Cole’s hurtful words, claiming that her body and pleasures were the right of all men. Somehow Greg noticed.

“Monica. Are you still asleep? I didn’t mean to cum so quickly. It’s been a while and I have nothing but meetings today. We have another hour before work calls. I’ll make it up to you in the shower.”

More than anything Monica wanted to rekindle her lust for Greg, but something in her mind kept getting in the way. She knew it was temporary, some kind of mental block, but at that moment she simply wanted Greg to hold her and kiss her neck and tell her how much he cared. As she considered all of this in her mind, Greg pulled out and moved back, then rolled out of bed, saying “Well, if you’re just going to lay there and think about it, I’ll take a shower by myself.”

Monica cursed Greg under her breath, but she knew that was unfair. Greg thought everything remained the same, only better now that she had begun sleeping with him. Monica really didn’t want to talk about it, but wasn’t sure what else to do. More than anything she wanted to return to her old self and tackle Greg in the office and force him to fuck her into a series of orgasms, but now all she wanted was a cup of coffee and a neck massage. Damn. She rolled out of bed and padded down to the kitchen. At least there was coffee.

Not so oddly, Cole was a bigger problem in Monica’s new sleeping arrangements than her husband Jim. That same Wednesday, Cole had dropped by the plant with some made-up excuse to see Greg and talk about some work issue. Greg welcomed Cole into his office, talked about life and work, then waving goodbye to Cole right there in front of Monica’s desk. Greg knew all about Cole, and Cole had recently come to know all of what Greg meant to Monica. As Cole walked out of the office, for just a second his personable smile warped into a scowl of contempt. He had asked if Monica wanted to go out for lunch, right there in front of Greg, and when Monica declined his offer, he nodded and shot out a crooked smile before turning to go, leaving Monica wondering if she could ever really trust him again.

Thursday was her day off, something Jim knew too well, so Monica had to rush home after only a few hours in Greg’s arms and pretend to wake up in bed when Jim arrived home at 8:30. He stumbled into bed with hardly a hello. Monica almost returned to work just to be near Greg, but chose instead to buy groceries and make her lawfully wedded husband a decent dinner. Toward noon she had seen Cole’s truck. She walked over to say hello and also confront Cole and open herself up to his thoughts.

“Monica. My sweetness. I miss those nights when you would warm me with your presence, but no more. I am jealous.”

“Stop it Cole.” Monica knew Cole’s polite words and charming smile was just a cover but she had to smile back at him. The old goat was probably just in need of an hour in bed with her. “Nothing’s changed and you know it. I’m just busy.”

“Monica. How can I not feel jealous when you drive off to be with a man who I still call a friend but now must see as a competitor? It was easier to accept your time in Greg’s arms when each night you would come back to be with me. But now my nemesis has claimed even your sleeping hours.”

“I don’t want to talk about it Cole. I just came by to say hello.”

“No. I don’t think so. Something here still calls to you, something only I can give. That makes me happy. But still I am confused. Why didn’t you come into my arms the other night instead of driving all the way to be with Greg? Was it because I made you face yourself? Perhaps because I questioned why you refused a man who wanted to make use of your womanly treasures?”

“You know damn well why. The man deserves to be in jail, or worse. No man has the right to attack a woman just because he wants to have sex with her.” Just the mention of the attack of just a few days before caused Monica to start shaking and break out in a sweat, but Cole didn’t seem to notice.

“And I agreed. He had no right to you, not like that. But men are often confused by the whims of women. Even after all this time with you, Monica, I wonder just what it is that you want.” Cole wrapped an arm around Monica’s waist, a hand reaching over and attempting to unsnap the front of her slacks. She slapped his hand away, but he seemed undeterred.

“After all these months, still you fight me. I think there isn’t a piece of your clothing I haven’t had to rip off of your body. I think maybe a little force makes you lust for more. Maybe you yearn for a man to show just how badly he needs you. And have you ever left here fully satisfied? Every time I pull you back and force myself on you that one last time, you submit and even ask for more. I must admit that even I may not be enough of a man to fill all your needs. I can say that. I am but a man. I know my limitations, but you seem to be in denial about the kind of woman you are. I don’t think that something to be ashamed of. Some women are like that. You are married, yet want me. You sleep with me, but then also want Greg. Are we enough, or is there more you want?”

“I don’t like the direction we’re going in Cole.” Monica would have turned and left, but Cole had pulled her in, embracing Monica from the back and pulling her tight into his chest. He began pulling up on her sweater and the blouse underneath, but Monica struggled, fighting him with her body, her mind confused at what he was trying to force on her. Cole was physical and forceful, but also soft and alluring. It was normal for him to whisper out a beautiful poem while forcing Monica to his bed. He knew he could have her anywhere, could ask anything of her, and she would moan in compliance as he filled her with his need. Yet now he was being unnecessarily brutal and unkind, as though he didn’t want to love her so much as hurt her out of spite.

As his hands ripped open her blouse, grabbing her bare breasts, Monica gasped at the violence and was barely able to gasp, “Not now Cole. Later. I have to get home.”

“Maybe,” replied Cole with a following chuckle. “Maybe not. Let’s see what you say in an hour.” These words caused Monica’s eyes to widen, not so much out of fright as out of anger. With a loud voice filled with both, she screamed out, “Stop it Cole. What the fuck are you trying to do?”

That broke the spell. Cole’s grip eased, his thumbs and fingers releasing her nipples, his arms loosening, and Monica was able to step forward and twirl around to face him. “Damn it Cole. What’s gotten into you?”

Cole sidestepped the question, reaching out to give Monica’s left nipple a soft tweak and feel. “You do have such beautiful breasts Monica. There is a reason men yearn for you.”

Monica pushed back on the many comments she wanted to yell at Cole but first focused on pulling down her blouse and sweater. As she pushed away his hand and rearranged her clothing, Cole said “You’ve changed Monica. Was it really that attack from that man, or have you changed in how you feel about me? I think before you would have begged me to rip your pants off, even moaned for more as I crushed you into the floor. Perhaps you think you can do better with Greg, but let me warn you. He will not divorce his wife, not the woman who bore him sons. You are but a momentary thing to him. But for me, you are my always, my forever.”

Monica’s jaw dropped when Cole said this. His violence and lust were common, as were his comments about Greg, but this was the first time he had brought up Greg’s marriage, as though assuming Monica was sleeping with him with the thought of divorcing Jim and marrying Greg for his money.

“That’s it. You’ve gone too far Cole.” She stormed out of the house, leaping off the front steps and onto the lawn, her thoughts angry and confused and wishing all men out of her life. As she turned into her own driveway, Monica was astounded to see that Mrs. Flynn was outside, kneeling on the cold ground and doing something in her front garden.

“Mrs. Flynn. It’s too cold for you to be out. Why are you here? Come inside.”

“No, dear. If I don’t weed the garden now, then the daffodils won’t come up. I need some fertilizer. Mr. Flynn always knew how to grow the most beautiful flowers.”

Monica took her sweater off and put it around the old woman’s shoulders, only then noticing that a button was missing from her blouse, no doubt thanks to Cole. She led the old woman into her own house, fixing a pot of tea and insisting that she stay for lunch. It would be a late lunch, a good meal for Jim when he woke while filling Mrs. Flynn with perhaps more sustenance than she would normally have. It was quick and simple, just some pork chops and potatoes and salad. Monica reminded herself to start planning better, having ingredients ready to use with the slow cooker. Soups and stews were easy if you planned ahead, and if she was going to continue making her way over to Greg’s place for late-night sleepovers, good planning would be essential. Keep the husband fed, the boss happy, and the next door neighbor at arm’s length. Who knew three men could be so much work?

Jim was a little peeved at having to share his meal with an old neighbor who kept forgetting who he was. With a quick kiss to Monica’s cheek, he unnecessarily reminded Monica that he’d need dinner to be served up around nine that night. Then he disappeared into their second bedroom, what had been turned into a game room for him. Monica spent the rest of the day making sure Mrs. Flynn was safe and warm in her own house, then back to plan a late dinner and clean the kitchen. Life was so much more simple when she was in high school.

When Jim left for work near midnight, Monica threw a prepared bag into her car and was quickly back at Greg’s. He was up, the lights on, already coming to expect Monica to be joining him for a late-night sleepover. He was rough, perhaps just as efficient at removing her clothing and preparing her to meet his needs as when he focused on some project at work. Yet Greg’s roughness, his physical demands requiring swift and unspoken completion, always included the kisses and touches and moans of appreciation that showed Monica that he cared. And there was a frailty to the man that she had come to know over the past many months.

As Greg slapped her ass, pushed one of her legs up on the bed and slipped his cock past her panties and through her slit, he seemed to tremble more than she did. He pulled her hand down to feel his cock, telling her to show him where she wanted him to push in. Then he lifted her ass up, Greg standing by the bed and lifting her feet off the floor, spending the next ten minutes loudly pounding into her as though he hadn’t had sex in a year. He was able to hold his needs off until Monica rose to her own orgasm. Only one, but it was good, one that completely took over Monica’s mind and filled her with a sense of total physical completion.

Greg paused in his rough and demanding fuck to comment on what a wet piece of snatch Monica was. Yet he made up for his crude comments by laying her back down on the bed, pushing his hands up to embrace her breasts and grind into her ass for another few minutes until he achieved his own orgasm. As his climax overtook him and his balls pulsed out their contents inside of Monica, Greg softened, laying upon her and whispering out how glad he was that he would be waking in her arms. Even after that he wanted more, would have probably kept them both up the entire night, mixing coffee with various alcohols and only late making it into work. But Monica needed sleep, needed to silence her mind, and after the lights were off she smiled to herself when Greg began to snore.

Later in the morning, the sun’s rays not yet making it through the bare branches that filled the orchard, Greg nonchalantly told Monica that he could drive them both to the office. They could have done most of their work there in his home, safe and alone and without any prying eyes. But here he was, openly defying the wagging tongues at the plant, telling Monica through action rather than words that he wanted everyone to know that they had spent the night together.

This had been done before with other women and girls, Monica knew. Gossips at the plant had whispered to Monica that they had seen other, younger girls arrive in Greg’s car, but Monica didn’t begrudge the man his past. Maybe she would be history in another year, but she couldn’t promise any more from herself. For now, Greg was the man she most wanted to be held by, and Monica was more than touched at this simple gesture. As she stepped from his car, all the plant seemed to go silent, all the employees seemed to notice, and Monica could barely hold back a grin as Greg took her hand and walked with her to the office.

The morning was all work, but since she would be working that Saturday at Greg’s, she planned to take the afternoon off. Problem was her car was still at Greg’s home. Walking into his office, she found him pouring through a pile of papers. Looking up he smiled and waved her over.

“Greg. I’ve got to get back home. Jim doesn’t work tonight so I’m stuck there until tomorrow. But you know where my car is right now. Care to drive me over to pick it up?

Monica was cynical enough to think that Greg would take advantage and agree to drive her back to where she had left her car at his house, yet then expect an hour or two of extended sexual play. Even when she had her car at the plant, Greg sometimes had talked her into dropping by the house for another final round of sex. Sometimes it was just a quick fuck or mouth job in the back of his car, maybe draped over the back of his couch, or a two-hour marathon in the bedroom that left Monica with barely enough strength to drive home. Sex. It was so often about sex, not that Monica really minded. So when she requested Greg to drive her back to his place, she expected more of the same. His response surprised her.

“Of course. But instead of you going straight home, how about you following me to that discrete little restaurant we both like? Your husband won’t complain about me making you work through lunch, will he?”

Greg got out of his chair and began to put his coat on, but before he could straighten his tie, Monica gently pushed him back onto the large leather couch that took up a portion of his office. “Sounds great. It’s been awhile since you’ve taken me out. But, how about an appetizer?”

Monica knew she would have Greg to herself all Saturday, but his kind gesture, of thinking first about her and her marriage, really touched her. It would be normal for him to first want some part of her for himself, or, more indelicately, want to leave some special part of himself inside of her. But here he was, taking her seriously and hoping to just enjoy her company for lunch. That turned her on more than any half dozen expensive meals or bottles of wine, and she wanted to show him just how much that meant to her.

“Just relax. Let me take care of you.” As Monica knelt between Greg’s legs, she easily unzipped his slacks but had some trouble wrangling his already hard and lengthy dick out for her to go down on. She finally just pulled his pants and shorts down to his knees and began giving Greg’s cock all the loving her mouth could hold.

“Baby. Monica,” Greg groaned out as she wrapped her lips around the leading tip of his cock. “I was in a hurry this morning. I haven’t showered.”

Monica went deeper, slurping loudly, tonguing the man’s cock into extreme hardness, then loudly swallowing before answering. “Yeah. But it’s all me I’m tasting here. You and me, from last night, and that’s fine. The way you taste right now, I don’t care if you don’t shower all the rest of the month.”

Greg groaned again and put a hand out to stroke Monica’s head as she continued with her labors. But the simple mouth job lasted longer than she had anticipated. She decided that if she was going to put that much work into getting Greg off, then she might as well get something out of it. She smiled to herself, remembering that June would agree completely with her.

Monica stood and kneeled on the couch, straddling Greg’s wide frame with her knees, and lowered her very ready pussy onto his hard and throbbing cock. Pulling her panties aside, she was able to easily lead Greg’s cock into position and settle onto his first few inches. Then Monica leaned into his chest, arms around his neck, and began to slowly maneuver herself onto the rest of him. It only took a minute before she had fully impaled herself on him, then began a noisy rise and fall of her hips, his cock never fully leaving the grasp of her cunt.

This was better, wonderful, but far more dangerous. Monica knew that once she had Greg inside of her, she never really wanted to release him. It was hard to just fuck and run with this man, but for this short and frustrating amount of intimacy, she was willing to pay the price. The quickie Monica had resigned herself to turned into a long fifteen-minute fuck, Greg somehow willing himself to hold back until Monica had first lost herself in a climax that had her holding back a scream and taking a bite out of the shoulder of his jacket. Then he turned her over and finished with himself on top, a hard five minute fuck with one of Monica’s legs pushed over the back of the couch as Greg poured out the remains of his balls into her. They wound up in a sweaty heap on the couch, their breath coming in ragged gasps.

“You know. If we’d just gone back to my place, we would have been a lot more comfortable.” Greg bent down to lick a bead of sweat on Monica’s forehead and she took the opportunity to give his neck a friendly bite. “Yeah, but would it have been as much fun? I think I’ll have to start screaming out loud so the workers can hear us. That’ll really get their tongues to wagging.”

Greg slowly pulled back, dislodging his somewhat softer length from where he had remained inside of Monica. “Sorry. I think I ripped your panties in half again. Told you to stop wearing those things. They just get in the way.”

“Easy for you to say,” replied Monica, a hand going down to inspect and then cup her violated crotch. “At least I got what I wanted. That’ll make me smile all the way home.”

“An Orgasm? Was it that good?”

“You were that good, but what I really wanted was a part of you. I want to drive home with you still inside of me. Nothing you haven’t wanted me to do before.”

Greg just smiled and walked over to a cabinet in the corner of the office. He walked back with a bulbous little thing that barely fit in his large hand. As he kneeled before Monica’s still prone figure, he leaned in for another kiss while maneuvering the object between her thighs. With only a second of pause, Monica let out a light moan as she felt the object slide into her. “There you are. No way that part of me will leak out now. Ready for lunch?”

“Hey. I think we just finished a full course meal, but I guess a little food would do me some good.”

They took their time in cleaning up, not making it out of the office until well past one. Greg again held Monica’s hand all the way to his car, and Monica couldn’t hold back a large smile when she spied a couple of the women watching from across the parking lot.

Lunch was wonderful, the restaurant having a fresh supply of halibut waiting for Monica. Then a quick kiss to Greg, a promise to see him the following day, and then home to Jim. He was already up, complaining that he couldn’t find anything to eat for lunch and wanting to know what time dinner would be served. Later in the evening he went over to see Cole about something having to do with his truck, and upon returning Jim’s only bit of conversation was, “You’re working all day tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah. That’s why I got a half day today. Did you have something else you wanted to do?”

“No. Just checking. But you’re going to keep up working all day Monday and Wednesdays, right? Then half Friday and all Saturday.”

“Of course. At least through March. Then we’ll see what happens.”

Jim shrugged, grabbed a beer and disappeared into his game room. Even after all that Greg had done to her earlier in the day, Monica felt some sense of abandonment when she turned in for bed. Jim followed much later, at first snuggling into her, but then rolling over to his own side of the bed. Monica felt a hundred things, but mostly a lot of guilt mixed with a good amount of disillusionment. She obviously was a sinful slut of a wife, but Jim wasn’t doing a thing to help bring them back together as a couple.

Saturday found Monica up early and preparing for work. That was normal, but Jim soon followed and was able to wave goodbye to her from the doorway, a cup of coffee in hand. He seemed happy, even making sure Monica had a complete lunch packed with a bottle of water. His good humor made Monica feel that much more guilty about her extramarital activities, but it didn’t quell her desire to return to Greg’s side.

Work got in the way of any personal connections between boss and employee. The week before a client had suddenly requested a new emergency order for 5,000 specialty boxes. Not just plain brown storage boxes. With Valentine’s day coming up, the client had already ordered and been delivered two months prior a large order of hexagonal boxes with multicolored designs on the top. It was complex and time consuming but expensive and very profitable. The chocolatiers had complained bitterly about the cost, but now that they needed another truckload of specialty containers delivered less than a month before V-Day, Greg was openly bragging about how buying local (stateside) saved that company’s candy-covered ass.

Toward noon, Monica was able to look over from her desk/workstation to see Greg going over the figures for the order. It was done and taken care of, the order all but packaged and put into the large semi the client had sent over the day before. Still Greg obsessed over materials and employee time sheets and even possible EPA violations due to excessive nighttime noise and emissions. It was done and taken care of, and still Greg obsessed.

Monica had to smile, watching Greg work with a coat and tie yet still in his boxers. She knew that he’d work through lunch if not interrupted, so she walked over and interrupted him with a large Tom Collins. An odd drink she’d never heard of before, but it had become a favorite after Greg had introduced it to her.

“Drink it. All of it. Now I’ve got something to show you.”

Greg took a deep breath, frowning at the interruption, then doing as requested. After downing the cold glass of alcoholic refreshment, he allowed himself to relax and followed Monica out of the home office and down the hall to their shared playroom. Not the master bedroom, which was upstairs, but a guest bedroom with all the comforts a couple would need to enjoy themselves for a day or two.

Monica led a smiling Greg over to the bed and then bent over the bed, pulling her skirt up to show her very naked ass. “Had to take your plug out yesterday when I took a shower, but that gave me time to do a little pruning down there. Kind of cold without any panties. Any ideas on how to warm me up?” She had hoped Greg would turn her over and go down on her, burying his face between her legs and putting his lips and tongue and teeth to good use and tame her ever responsive clit. When he was in the mood, his oral skills always guaranteed a loud and wet orgasm. Any ten minutes of his tonguing would cause Monica to collapse and open herself to two hours of anything else he wanted to do with her.

Greg had his own ideas, his own imaginative needs, and he was never one to hold back out of politeness. He walked up and ground his boxer-covered crotch into Monica’s bare ass, but then pushed her up onto the bed, turning her around and pulling her head back and over the edge of the mattress. With her head hanging down and looking back at Greg, she watched him drop his shorts and, unsurprisingly, push his already excited length of manhood into her face. Monica’s hands were there to hold him at bay, but as she licked and sucked on the leading portion of his cock, she was aware of Greg disrobing, throwing his coat and shirt to the side, preparing to act on Monica’s teasing invitation.

As Greg undressed, he slowly pumped his cock in and out of Monica’s upside down mouth, patiently but showing a need Monica did her best to meet. Then his hands began undressing her, pulling back on her blouse, unsnapping her bra, and playing with her breasts, all the while keeping her mouth filled to overflowing. It was hard for Monica to swallow the accumulating saliva, Greg’s own pre-cum adding to the liquids she was having to deal with. Still, she had to appreciate his having showered, the slight fragrance of sandalwood from his soap being far more appealing than the strong chemical smell of the hyper-masculine scented soap that Jim had started to use. And Greg’s physical demand for Monica to suck his excited dick wasn’t too forceful, the man obviously aware of what a gag reflex was.