Chapter 2: Jennifer's Sunday

There's a room of shadows that gets so dark brother
It's easy for two people to lose each other
In this tunnel of love...

Jennifer awoke more relaxed and rested than she had in weeks. Mike was still sleeping. She looked at him and smiled.

Sleepy head! Well, I can't say you didn't earn it.

Jennifer and Mikey had a busy Sunday ahead of them: not one, but two birthday parties. They would be gone all day. But first, Jennifer had to pick Mikey up.

Jennifer hopped in the shower. As she thought about what she'd done there with Mike not long before, she felt tingly from more than just the warm, pulsing water. Before she even realized it, her wet, soapy hands were lingering longer than necessary on her thighs ... her breasts ... even her ass ... and especially her—

Oh ... oh ... that feels good ... like when he...

Jennifer washed her slit well. Very, very well. She placed a fingertip inside her opening—at first just to clean it, but then...

I shouldn't do this. I have so much to do. I probably couldn't even have another orgasm right now anyway.

Her pussy told her otherwise. Slipping into memories of the previous night, Jennifer began to masturbate.

She drove home from the restaurant, Mike following in his car. Her nipples, unconstrained by a bra, were at full attention. Her pussy, bare under her skirt, was wetting the seat.

Jennifer opened the front door of the house, let Mike in, and closed it. Immediately, he pressed her up against the door and kissed her forcefully. She felt his hands stroking her face and neck; then, on her chest, caressing her braless tits. He was mad with lust, and so was she.

While kissing her, Mike unbuttoned her shirt. Violently, he pulled it shirt open and pushed it partway down her shoulders. Then, to her surprise, he took a half step back ... and slowly, deliberately looked her over.

She felt so exposed, so wanton standing there—on display before him, in her high black heels, short skirt, and open shirt. Her naked breasts heaved as she panted. Her hard nipples and wet pussy were throbbing.

Mike closed in again. He ran a hand up and down her thigh, each time hiking her skirt up a little more. Soon, the bottom of her pussy was showing. She squirmed as he stroked all around from the innermost flesh of her thighs to her ass.

As if making a decision, Mike paused for a moment. Then, forcefully, he lifted her arms above her head. With his left hand, he pinned them together. In response, her shoulders dug into the door. To balance herself, she thrust her hips out and widened her stance.

Mike took advantage. Without warning, he thrust a finger into her pussy. It slid in easily; and moments later, he added a second finger. Meanwhile, still holding her wrists above her head, he invaded her mouth with his tongue.

She moaned through the kiss. Mike usually took the lead during sex, and sometimes he could be pretty intense—but this was really intense. He was treating her like a slut. That was fine with Jennifer.

"That's what I'll be from now on," she thought. "Your slut wife, Mike! But a slut only for you..."

Sitting through dinner, wearing not a thread of underwear and enduring Mike's hungry stare, had excited Jennifer more than she expected. Then, the wantonness of her half-undressed pose by the door—followed by Mike's show of dominance—had driven her out of her mind. Now, the press of Mike's thumb muscle on her clit and the furious thrusting of his curled fingers inside her overwhelmed her body.

"So fast ... so hard," she thought, feeling a massive orgasm coming on. The fuse was lit. Her hips began to buck.

In the shower, Jennifer was coming. She was slightly bent over, bracing herself against a wall with one hand. Her other hand was between her legs—her middle finger flying over her wet clit. With each contraction, her body undulated. Sheets of water fell off her body and hit the base of the shower. Each splash was like an exclamation mark.

As Jennifer was getting dressed, Mike stirred. She walked over to the bed and kissed him good morning.

"So," she asked him, "what are you going to do with all your free time today?"

"The usual," he replied. "After I sleep a little more..."

Jennifer was in the kitchen, eating a quick breakfast, when Mike called to her from upstairs.

"Honey, did you get the mail yesterday?"

Baby, I had a lot of other things on my mind yesterday.

"Nope!" Jennifer called back. "But I'm about to take something to the car. I'll get it."

Back in the den, Jennifer flipped through the mail. Mostly, it was the usual assortment of catalogs, pamphlets, and "urgent offers" requiring her "immediate response." In a word, junk.

But there was also a large envelope, hand-addressed to her. She studied the return address. The envelope was from a hospital.

A shock ran through her. She hadn't thought about the hospital ... or Kevin ... for several days. Slightly afraid but also intrigued, Jennifer opened the envelope.

Inside was a thank-you card from the staff. Also in the envelope were a dozen drawings of Jennifer with the children. The pictures were beautiful. Staring at them, Jennifer had to fight back tears.

She thought to show them to Mike, but quickly she thought otherwise.

He might ask questions. Besides, I need to put this behind me.

Scanning the drawings again, she smiled at the messages written on them. "Thank yoo Jenefr I lov yoo." "Jennifer is the best Hermione!" The praise tickled her vanity.

Jennifer thought about the dark road ahead for most of the kids. They obviously had put a lot of love into the drawings. As a teacher, Jennifer was used to looking at children's drawings—but these were special.

No, I can't throw these away.

"Babe," Mike said from down the hall, "don't forget to take Mikey's dinosaur sweatshirt!"

Yikes, I've got to get going.

She put the card and drawings back in the envelope, placed the envelope under the rest of the mail, and put the stack down on her desk.

Damn it, I better not be late. Mikey hates to be the last one to a party.

They were a little late getting to the first party, but not by much. The birthday boy and most of the invitees were Mikey's classmates. Mikey immediately fell in with them, allowing Jennifer to mingle.

She enjoyed catching up with the other moms; she'd been out of the loop for a while. Hearing about the mundane details of their lives comforted her. They reminded her of the simple pleasures in her own life—pleasures from which she'd started to become detached.

Sneaking around with beautiful strangers? Trying to save the world? No more! Wife, mother, teacher of twenty-nine little munchkins: that's me. It should be enough. It's more than enough.

Jennifer's recent adventure had been like falling into a movie. Now, the movie was over. She had stepped out of the theater and back into the real world.

The kids were disappointed that Mike was not at the party. He always played with the kids, and they loved him. So did the other moms.

Jennifer went to look for a bathroom. There was a line outside the nearest one, but the hostess invited her to use one on the floor above. Jennifer began making her way up the stairs ... and blushed.

There's another thing they don't know. Mr. Boy Scout has a wild side. Well, that's my secret, ladies.

As she reached the top of the stairs and entered the restroom, Jennifer's thoughts returned to the previous night.

Mike's naked body cascaded down the stairs. She was below him, still wearing her heels—but nothing else. She released her grip on his wet, softening cock. The taste of his cum lingered in her mouth.

He grabbed her underarms and pulled, signaling that he wanted her to move up. She assumed he wanted her to go to the bedroom. However, as she climbed past him and her knees came astride his head, he grabbed her ass and held it.

Her pussy, not coincidentally, was hovering right over his face.

Looking down, she saw Mike's tongue snake out. Broadly and firmly, he licked along the entire length of her engorged lips. She moaned, closed her eyes, and arched her neck.

She felt Mike's tongue extending, probing. She reared up, altering the angle of her hips—and suddenly, his tongue thrust inside her. Curling it, he teased her while drawing out her juices. Meanwhile, his hands kneaded the cheeks of her ass.

Probing, swirling, licking ... Mike's tongue thoroughly explored everywhere it could reach inside her. She'd never been fond of the phrase "eating pussy," but she couldn't deny that it fit what Mike was doing to her. Egging him on in her mind, she went with it.

"Oh god," she thought, "eat me, Mike! Eat my pussy! Eat me out!"

A little later, Mike's tongue was on her clit, vibrating. Pressing down and gyrating, Jennifer found just the right amount of pressure and travel that she needed. Earlier, against the door, she'd felt wanton ... but this was beyond wanton.

"I'm fucking my clit on his tongue," she thought. "I'm naked, on the stairs, on my hands and knees..."

Jennifer was rocking wildly now and groaning loudly. Mike urged her on with his own moans. He wanted it almost as much as she. She could let herself go.

"Oh fuck," she said aloud, "oh fuck yes baby you're going to make me come all over your face—"

Her earlier orgasm, by the door, had been like an explosion. This one was more like an implosion. Her toes curled. Her calves tightened. Her neck arched. Instead of radiating from her pussy, pleasure erupted everywhere and—like her body—collapsed towards her pussy. In the aftermath, she felt reduced to a sensitive, pulsing clit.

Mike looked up at her, smiling. Then she noticed his cock. It was hard again and still a little wet from how the action on the stairs had started, before she'd climbed on top of him.

"Bedroom," Mike commanded. "Now!"

"Now! I want to open my presents now!" the birthday boy yelled. Snapping out of her reverie, Jennifer finished washing her hands (the water had been running for some time) and exited the bathroom. Rejoining the party, she checked on Mikey and then went to the kitchen to have a bite to eat with the other moms.

"Jennifer," one of them asked, "my little girl, Gina, is in the other Kindergarten class..."

"Yes, I know."

Jennifer had heard about little Gina. She'd had health issues and had not completed much preschool. Happily, it seemed, most of her health issues had resolved—or at least stabilized—but developmentally, Gina was a half step behind most of the other kids in her class.

"Well," the mother continued, "We're thinking about getting a tutor for Gina. Just once a week, maybe. It's all ... all we may be able to afford. Can you recommend anyone?"

Jennifer felt a familiar tugging at her heart. She answered quickly, impulsively.

"How about me?"

"But you're—I mean, that would be amazing, but you're a teacher! You can't possibly have the time or the energy! Especially with Mikey..."

Jennifer realized she'd been hasty. She wasn't supposed to tutor kids in her class. But maybe kids in another class?

Oh well, screw the rules, whatever they are. The poor little thing ... I should do this.

Just then, Jennifer saw Gina's brother, running alongside Mikey.

"I'll tell you what," Jennifer said, "If your boy could stay after school and play with Mikey, and you could watch them, I'd be happy to spend some time with Gina. Let's pick a day of the week—Fridays, maybe?"

"Um ... yeah, Fridays, that would be great. Um ... how much, you know, how much would you charge..."

"That depends. How much would you charge for watching Mikey?"

"I don't understand..."

"Here's what I'm thinking. You watch Mikey, I'll spend time with Gina, and we'll call it even."

"That's ... hardly even, I think, but of course ... wow. Jennifer, thank you so much!"

Soon it was time to move on to the next party. It took a while to get there. The second birthday boy was one of Mikey's fellow Cub Scouts, and his den was well-represented. The kids at the second party missed Mike even more.

Jennifer filled in, helping to organize a game. Ever the teacher, she quickly figured out what kind of encouragement each child needed to do his best. She was in her element now, and it felt terrific.

When the game ended, the party moved outside, and Jennifer found a comfortable spot to watch as others supervised the next game. She found herself alone for a while. Feeling grounded for the first time in weeks, she tried to reflect with some detachment on what had happened since the night she left the hospital in tears.

Jennifer shook her head.

The night I found out that he was a professional seducer, hired by Peter to break up my marriage.

Arriving home that fateful night, Jennifer had prayed that Mike was asleep. She was terrified to face him. Terrified that he would see right through her.

Mike was awake, but she blew past him and ran upstairs to change. At James' apartment, her panties had gotten soaked. In her bedroom, she grabbed a new pair, just before Mike caught up with her.

Moments later, in the bathroom, she realized new panties wouldn't be enough. She smelled of arousal—and maybe of James, too. She couldn't risk it; she had to shower.

Anticipating that Mike might try to follow her into the bathroom, she locked the door. She wasn't ready to see him. She had to pull herself together.

In bed, when Mike spoke of having "crazy thoughts," she felt a wave of fear. All the deception, all those weeks, could it really have worked? Could a man who had known her intimately for more than twelve years have failed to see the signs?

She realized how foolish she had been to think not. Mike was a software engineer; he had a gift for taking little pieces and putting them together. She braced herself for a confrontation.

It never came. Mike trusted her completely. He loved her absolutely. He never suspected, even that night. He saw signs, but he read them differently. That night, for example, he thought she'd been assaulted, maybe raped.

That next day—Saturday—was perhaps the hardest day of her adult life. She felt out of place in her own home. She kept having flashbacks of her liaison with James and the revelation of Peter's psychotic obsession with her. An obsession that had led him to throw James in her path.

That night, Jennifer wanted to be reminded of real love. Reminded that someone genuinely desired her. Reminded that she was a person—a cherished person—not someone's job or disposable object. She hoped Mike's attention would heal her of her wounded vanity. And indeed, Mike was wonderful—as loving and tender as she could recall him ever being.