Bree's Journey Pt. 01

He moved his finger faster and I buried my face in my hands as I shuddered my release, mostly to muffle the gasping and panting that I couldn't seem to contain. "Shhhhh ... It's okay. No one noticed. Just relax and sit back."

I did what he requested. I could tell my cheeks were flushed by the heat radiating from my face, and I was still panting to catch my breath.

Miles removed his hand from up my dress and shifted my leg off his lap so that I could resume a more proper sitting position. He wiped his finger in his napkin and took a sip of his drink as if nothing had just happened. "I wouldn't have given Nancy the choice if I thought there was even a remote possibility that she would actually put out. I think you've ruined me for all other women for the rest of my life. I couldn't possibly want her after being with you.

"At any rate, the conversation took a turn after that. She asked me where I was going to take you. When I told her I hadn't decided yet, she suggested this place. She asked me if I was coming home afterward, and I told her no."

I shook my head in disbelief and took a sip of my wine.

"Do you feel better now?"

I nodded. "In more ways than one."

"She asked to see a picture of you."

"She did? Why?"

"She said she just wanted to know what you looked like. I think it might be a bit like porn for her."

I wrinkled my brow at Miles.

"She plans to use it to get off."

"Oh!"

"I would like to have some pictures of you to hold me over until I see you again. Would you pose for me, baby?"

I could feel my cheeks starting to flush again. "Okay, yeah, I guess so. Are you sure she isn't requesting a photo so she can hunt me down and kill me?"

Miles laughed out loud. "I'm sure. Nancy is not a killer. She may even develop a little crush. She's been known to do that with some women, although she'd never admit it."

"Why wouldn't she admit that? I've had girl crushes. Every woman I know has had a crush on another woman at one time or another. It doesn't mean anything."

"You don't have to explain it to me. Nancy is quite a bit more sexually repressed than you."

"That's a shame."

"Why? Were you hoping for a threesome?"

"No. I meant that it's a shame that she can't just accept who she is. No one should be ashamed of who they are."

Our food arrived, interrupting our conversation. The scallops were amazing, as was Miles' filet, of which he fed me a few bites from the tines of his fork. Our conversation wove around the topics of sports and general news, and never seemed to get back to his wife or her interesting views on sex.

After dinner, Miles drove to a park with a large playground and castle, parked the car and turned it off.

"Have you ever wanted to fuck in a public playground?'

I glanced around at the dark, deserted park. "I can't say that I have."

"Well, I have. Come on."

We both got out of the car at the same time, scanning the vacant park for any sign of other humans. Miles walked around the car and took my hand in his, leading me toward the castle. When we reached the sandy ground, he paused and took my shoes off, setting them down neatly on the walkway.

In the shadows cast by the castle-like structure, Miles pulled me into his arms for a deep kiss. When he pulled away, he was panting.

"I need to be inside you, Bree. Right now."

He unzipped his pants and fished his swollen cock through the opening of his fly. Then he spun me around and bent me over the wooden platform, lifting my dress so he could position his cock at my opening. In one swift motion, he was entering me. Another couple of thrusts, he was buried to the hilt.

I could tell by his intensity that he had no intention of making this one last. I had no idea, though, what the significance of the playground was until he started whispering to me.

"I need to come inside you. I want you pregnant."

I was freaked out at first. I'd made up my mind years earlier that I never wanted children. But then his fucking got even more intense and somehow the whole idea that he was getting this carried away by the notion of impregnating me started to really turn me on.

"You must have my children. Tell me you'll have my children. Say it."

I barely managed to choke out the words as I began to climax. "I'll have your baby."

"Fuck, yes. Yes, yes ..."

Miles chanted as he delivered his final thrusts, coming deep inside my quivering cunt. We'd come at almost the precise same moment and the experience was amazing.

Miles remained inside me until gravity, and the fact that his member had grown soft, made him slide out. A warm trickle of semen slid down my inner thigh as I stood upright. I clamped my thighs together, not knowing how else to handle it.

"Don't worry about it. We'll get cleaned up when we get back to your place."

"What about your car seat?"

"It's leather. It'll survive."

Miles led us back to my shoes and then to the parking lot. I briefly wondered if anyone had heard any part of our exchange. I also wondered if Miles would bring it up again or hold me to my promise. I hoped not.

***

I stared into my cup of coffee at my desk Monday morning as I waited for my computer to come to life, trying to shake the bereavement from just one night away from Miles. He'd decided to stay at his house Sunday night.

It was pathetic how I was already falling for this man. Despite all his little kinks and the fact that he was contentedly married, I was undoubtedly growing attached to Miles. It didn't matter if it was love or infatuation, it all feels the same: Great when you're together, and lonely when you're apart.

He had "family obligations" on Sunday that prevented him from calling or texting me. I received one brief text wishing me "sweet dreams" around 10pm. I didn't respond because I knew I wouldn't get an answer and that would just make me feel worse. So I spent all day imagining him with another woman and hating him for taking me on that date and being attentive enough to make me feel like there was more to our relationship than just sex. How could there be? He was married with no intention of leaving his wife. I was a fool to be lured into thinking otherwise.

Still, I didn't want to give him up. He was more addictive than any drug, and just as bad for me, but I didn't care as long as I could experience that high that only he could give me. I just needed a fix.

When his name suddenly appeared on the caller ID of my cell phone, my heart nearly leapt from my chest.

"Hello?"

"Hey, baby. How are you?"

I lied. "I'm okay. How're you?"

"Horny as fucking hell just from the sound of your voice. I've missed you."

"I miss you, too."

"Did you sleep okay last night?"

I lied again. "Yeah. I went to bed kind of early."

"Did you get my text? You didn't respond."

"I didn't see it until this morning." It was easier to say that than explain why I couldn't bring myself to text him back.

"You were in bed early then. I really missed snuggling next to you."

I didn't respond to that minor confession. If he missed me so much, he could've jumped in his car and headed to my place.

"Is everything okay, baby? You're being awfully quiet."

"I'm okay. I'm just at work."

"I think it's more than that."

"I've just been missing you, that's all."

"I know, baby. I've been missing you, too. I snuck off to the bathroom yesterday afternoon to jack off to the pictures we took Saturday night. I was so into it, I didn't hear Nancy walk in."

"Did she catch you?"

"Red handed."

"What did you do?"

"I just kept going. She made her usual disgusted noise and left the room in a huff. I came hard after that."

I hated how just knowing that he had been masturbating to images of me made me aroused.

"I showed her the pics we took. Not just the one we took for her, but the ones I used to get off."

"Miles, why did you do that?"

"I don't know. It sort of pisses me off when she acts so self-righteous about masturbation, like she never does it. I wanted her to see what turns me on. That you are what I want, and that you're everything that she is not."

"What was her reaction?"

"It was hard for her to look at them. Especially the ones where it's obvious from my wedding ring that it's me there with you."

"I can't believe you showed her those."

"It's not like she doesn't know, Bree."

"I know, but seeing is totally different."

"It adds to the humiliation for sure, but I didn't even get close to her limit. I guarantee you she committed those images to memory and used them to get off later. She took one of her long baths behind a locked bathroom door last night."

I shifted in my seat, becoming increasingly more aroused by that thought. Miles had shown me a picture of Nancy so it wasn't that difficult to mentally picture her in that bathtub.

"I need to get to a meeting here in a few minutes. I mostly wanted to hear your voice."

"I'm glad you called."

"Me, too. I really have missed you, baby. Are you planning to go to your usual restaurant Tuesday night?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so. Should I ask for two menus?"

"No. I'm thinking that Nancy and I might come together."

"Oh." I wasn't sure how to react to that idea.

"I can introduce the two of you. Just to keep the awkwardness to a minimum, we'll sit at a separate table. But if you happen to go to the ladies' room, I might just have to sneak away for a kiss. Would that be okay?"

"Yeah, I guess so. As long as it doesn't cause a scene. I like that place and wouldn't want to get kicked out."

"Nancy won't cause trouble, I promise you. Can you do something else for me?"

"What?"

"Can you wear a dress or skirt?"

"No panties?"

"No, I want you to wear panties this time. I just like the way you look in a skirt. Okay?"

"Okay. I'll wear a skirt."

"We'll be there around seven. I can't wait to see you, Bree."

"Me, either. Am I going to hear from you before then?"

"Of course. I'll text you after lunch."

"Okay. I'll keep my phone on."

"Bye, baby."

"Bye."

I set my cell on the desk, feeling giddy from having just gotten my Miles fix for the morning. My mind drifted almost immediately to our plans for Tuesday night. I was nervous about meeting Nancy. I'd secretly imagined it a thousand times but never with any single scene or plan in mind. Having a plan was real.

I planted the picture Miles had shown me of her firmly in my mind. I remember being surprised by it. She was a lot prettier than I had imagined. I'd been picturing this highly overweight, generally unkempt sort of a woman with maybe scraggly hair and little gray whiskers on her chin. I guess it was easier for me that way.

Nancy was nothing like that, of course. She was petite, rather thin, with short brown hair and a creamy white complexion. I could picture her cheeks flushing as Miles described all the things we did together. How her stomach probably churned as he jabbed her with the vivid details. I could imagine the feeling of inadequacy that must consume her in that moment.

On the one hand, it almost made me sick to think of it. On the other hand, she could change things if she chose. Miles had given her the opportunity time and again. She was a victim by choice, not because she was being forced into it.

I realized that I was clenching my jaw. I despised women who pretended to be victims. I had been forced years earlier to watch the law enforcement and legal system destroy a childhood friend of mine who'd been brutally gang raped. All because they refused to believe she wasn't a willing participant. They'd been jaded by the dozens of pretenders who'd been processed before her.

My desk phone rang, snapping me back to present day and forcing my mind to focus on work. It was a much needed distraction from the deep-seated resentment that Nancy seemed to unearth within me.

I kept my head down for most of the day, diving into work tasks with an energy and focus I hadn't had in ages. While part of it was the underlying anxiety I felt about Tuesday, the majority of it was a desperate need to keep my mind off of Miles and Nancy. It worked, for the most part.

Miles called me on his way home from work and we chatted while he sat in traffic. Living fairly close to the office, I arrived home during the conversation and began sifting through my closet for what I was going to wear the next evening. I didn't tell Miles what I was doing. Men never understand how women obsess over just the right outfit. I was being particularly obsessive on this occasion because I was meeting Miles' wife and there would be a natural tendency to draw comparisons between the two of us.

We finished our phone conversation around the same time that I decided that I had absolutely nothing appropriate to wear. I grabbed a protein bar, a bottle of water, and my handbag, and headed back out the door for the mall.

***

How is it that when you are looking forward to something, time drags until that moment comes, but when you are filled with dread, time flies past in the blink of an eye? It was Tuesday evening before I was mentally prepared for it.

I arrived at the restaurant just before 7pm and was seated with a drink in my hand before Miles and Nancy walked through the door. Miles hadn't discussed with me just how he planned to initiate the introduction, or whether or not he was going to warn Nancy in advance. I had asked him for these details in text but he skirted the questions. Knowing him, he derived some twisted sort of thrill from keeping his plan a secret.

I gulped at my drink and shifted in my seat until my butt was practically raw. It crossed my mind more than once how foolish it was for me to agree to this public introduction. Somehow, I'd convinced myself that I was doing nothing wrong and that this whole arrangement was actually normal. As I played out the possible upcoming scenes in my head, it became evident to me that there was nothing usual, ordinary, or normal about our relationship.

Opening my eyes wide, I glanced about the room. It was as if I were seeing clearly for the first time in days. My gaze sought my waiter in order to settle the bill for my single drink. Instead, it landed directly on Miles' smiling face, rapidly approaching with Nancy in tow. I was stuck.

"Sabrina!"

The inflection of his voice made it sound like he was trying to play it off as coincidence that I was there. I nervously scrambled to my feet, unsure if I was supposed to pretend to be surprised. I was more than a little annoyed with Miles to be put in this position. "Miles! Hi. How are you?"

"I'd like you to meet my wife, Nancy. Nancy, Sabrina."

Nancy extended her hand with a rather fake smile. "Nice to meet you, Sabrina."

I shook her hand. "Bree. You can call me Bree." I had no idea why I said that except that I was too nervous to think of anything else to say.

"I first met Bree here at this very restaurant on Valentine's Day, darling."

"Yes. How ironic."

Miles took Nancy's hand in his, squeezing it tight enough to cause discomfort. "Now, honey, behave yourself."

Nancy rolled her eyes and lifted her chin, glancing over at the waiter who was placing menus at their table. "Our table is waiting, Miles."

"And it can keep waiting." Miles brazenly ogled my body from head to toe, seemingly uninterested in what she was saying. His lust was obvious.

My neck and face heated in an instant. I told myself it was from embarrassment. I often lie to myself like that. The truth of the matter was, it turned me on.

"You look exquisite in that dress, Bree. I don't recall seeing it hanging in your closet. Is it new?"

The temperature of my face rose another ten degrees with his admission at having seen my closet. I barely stammered my reply. "Yes. I bought it last night."

"You picked it out just for this occasion?"

I nodded. I was nervous about saying too much.

"Nancy struggled with what to wear, too. She wanted to look pretty for you."

"Well, you succeeded, Nancy. I love your dress."

Nancy looked a little surprised by my compliment but then quickly recovered. "Thank you, Sa...Bree. Your dress is lovely."

"Thanks."

Miles's smile widened to what appeared to be a very smug grin. "We should take our seats now. Enjoy your dinner, Bree."

"Thanks. You, too. It was nice meeting you, Nancy."

"Thank you. Nice meeting you, as well. Please be sure to stop by our table and say goodbye before you leave."

It was my turn to be surprised. "Oh, okay. I will."

We all nodded briefly in agreement before they continued their path to their table some ten yards away. I sunk into my chair with one long exhale before reaching for my drink like it was a life preserver.

I became hyper aware of my every movement during dinner. I can't recall a single moment of relaxation, even after downing two drinks. It was how I felt when I first started dining out alone. It took me weeks to get through dinner without feeling self-conscious.

I rushed through my meal, and summoned the waiter to bring my bill right away. The only things stopping me from dashing out the door were my full bladder and my promise to stop by their table before leaving. While I might be allowed the oversight if I skipped the farewell, my bladder would not be so forgiving. I sucked in a sharp breath, slinging my handbag over my shoulder as I rose to walk toward their table.

They were still eating their meal, and I considered just detouring straight to the restroom but Miles caught my eye and set his silverware down in anticipation of my approach.

"I don't want to interrupt your meal ..."

"It's no bother, dear."

It was Nancy who fought to ease my nerves, and the immediate sense of relief nearly buckled my knees. I realized in that second that in some twisted way, she held all the cards. My ability to cope hinged on her acceptance of the situation. As my alcohol-fed mind processed that thought, I became somewhat irked. I was relying on the opinion of someone I'd just met. A woman. The poor excuse of a wife to my lover, no less.

All of this processing happened in a second. Her term of endearment changed from sounding like a rescue to being condescending, more than anything else.

I stood taller and smiled back at her. A moment earlier I'd been ready to slink out of the restaurant and walk away from this mess. But if a confrontation is what she wanted, I wouldn't disappoint her.

"I hope your meal was worth the drive. You must've passed at least a dozen good restaurants to get to this one."

I glanced from Nancy's fallen face to Miles. A grin was tugging at his lips. I had half a mind to lean over and kiss him right there in front of everyone. Instead, I decided that I should leave while I was ahead.

"Anyway, I just stopped by to bid you both a good evening before heading to the ladies' room."

Miles nodded. "We appreciate that." He looked over at Nancy with a somewhat menacing expression.

"Yes, thank you for stopping by. Please drive safely."

I was somewhat sickened by her manners. This is what men marry. All grace and no spark. It's no wonder the divorce rate is so high.

"It is good to see you, Bree." Miles' voice was low and hoarse.

I smiled and tilted my head in an openly flirtatious response to his obvious desire. The air between us grew thick with lust in an instant. Nancy didn't even exist anymore. Turning toward the restroom, my back to Nancy, I winked at Miles as my finger extended to glide across his arm as I strode from their table. It was the perfect exit.

I dipped into the single occupancy restroom, locking the door behind me and inhaling my first real breath since standing up from my table. The alcohol may have made it possible for me to stand up to Nancy at their table but it didn't completely quiet my nerves. There was still a risk she would make a public scene, and then it would be exposed that I was, in fact, having an affair with her husband. In most people's eyes, that would make me look bad.