Penny's Promiscuity Ch. 16: Shocks

"MmmmmYYYeessss!"

My whole body was now pulsating in time with the violent jerking of Pete's arm and hand. As my cries grew louder and louder, Pete pulled the corner of the pillow towards my head with his free hand. I bit into it hard to stifle the noise as my climax began in earnest, choking off my breath, making the room spin.

"Cum Penny! I want to see you cum for him! I want to hear you beg him to put a baby in you!"

"Mmmmnnnnnggghhhh!"

Pete brought his mouth back down onto my clitoris at the same time as his fingers rasped hard across the rough patch inside my vagina. My fingers tightened in his hair until I was sure whole handfuls would come away, my hips bucking wildly against his fist and his face, my teeth tearing into the white cotton of the pillow case.

Pete was speaking softly but whatever else he wanted was lost in the orgasm that racked my body, my belly tightening, my whole frame convulsing on the bed, my legs tight against the sides of my husband's head as my hips bucked and twisted uncontrollably until finally I collapsed helplessly on the bed, exhausted.

"What's got into you tonight?" Pete panted, smiling then kissing me on the cheek, forehead and lips.

I could taste my own bitter, pungent orgasmic juices on his mouth and tongue and wondered once again why on earth men found such disgusting flavours so arousing.

"I don't know," I replied, my voice breathy and broken. "Is it a problem?"

"Only if I get too old to do what's necessary," Pete grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe it's because Izzy's home."

"Maybe."

"It's unusual for her to come home midweek," he mused, rolling onto his back. "Has she told you why? She wouldn't tell me anything at all!"

This was no time to start a conversation that might not even need to take place.

"Maybe she'll tell me in the morning," I said trying to deflect his question. "I'm so tired. You did too good a job on me."

No man ever objects to having his skills in bed praised by the woman he had just fucked so Pete didn't even try. A few minutes later I heard his breathing become slow and regular as he fell asleep, happy and exhausted.

I lay awake for a long time, listening to his soft snores; pleased to have made my husband so happy and wondering what his lust-filled words would mean for our future.

Was he really ready for our Hotwife lifestyle to begin again? He hadn't mentioned it for some days; would he actually agree to us visiting an escort together?

And was I ready? Could a potential Grandmother be a Hotwife too?

I wondered whether across the landing, our worried daughter was getting any sleep at all.

***

"Come on, I have to be at work in an hour!"

Izzy and Pete had just enjoyed a pleasant father-daughter breakfast together in the kitchen while I got my clothes and papers ready for my own day at work. At my suggestion, Izzy had risen early to spend as much time as possible with her Dad who I knew had to leave not long after seven o'clock.

It would also distract her from the ordeal to come; learning if she really was pregnant. Distraction was something she badly needed if the bags under her eyes were anything to go by. Clearly sleep hadn't featured greatly in the last few hours.

Rising early for me had been a relief; with both my own and Izzy's issues on my mind I hadn't had a great deal of sleep the previous night either.

Nestling in a bag in the corner of my closet was the triple-pack of home pregnancy tests my daughter and I had bought from the late night pharmacy the previous evening. Though Izzy had been keen to take a test straight away, reading the instructions carefully had proved me right; the best level of accuracy would be found if the test was taken first thing in the morning. So, despite her protests, my daughter had been obliged to contain her anxieties and, if the look on her face was anything to go by, had slept as little as I had.

But patience can only last so long; the moment we saw Pete's car reversing down the driveway we half ran up the stairs in our robes to the family bathroom where Izzy literally tore open the packet of tests, ripped off her pyjama bottoms and sat down hard on the toilet seat.

I couldn't help noticing that her vulva was completely devoid of hair, something I had never noticed before and which had to be a very recent development. Izzy blushed when she realised I had noticed her bareness but neither of us said anything; there were bigger issues to consider.

My own pubic hair had regrown since my affair had come to an end, I suspected to the disappointment of my husband as well as myself but it was an important physical manifestation of my return to a monogamous marriage, if only temporarily.

Once settled on the loo, Izzy stared at the test in her hand.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Here goes, Mum!" she replied with an anxious look on her face.

Then she took a deep breath and stuck her hand between her open thighs. There was the familiar hiss of female urine being passed and we both counted the necessary seconds.

Once time was up, Izzy stopped her flow of pee in a way no woman who had given birth three times could possibly still do. For a moment I felt both old and envious but then concentrated on timing the test by counting. Anxious moments passed in near silence.

"Three -- two -- one -- okay!"

Together we peered into the little window.

"Oh no!" not again!"

There before us was the pattern that according to the leaflet meant an inconclusive result.

"Maybe the whole box of tests is faulty," I said. "I'll get some more from the hospital later; they're batch-checked so they've got to work."

"I can't wait another day, Mum," Izzy pleaded, tears forming in the corner of her eyes.

"Okay," I said, exasperated. "There are two tests left in the box. If we do one each then we'll know if it's the test or just you and your body. If they both come up inconclusive then we'll know the tests are faulty. Let's do it one last time, okay? Have you got enough pee left?"

Izzy nodded then sat back down on the toilet seat, peeled the wrapper off the stick and stuck it between her legs. The hiss of female urine followed again while I timed her very carefully, this time using the bedroom clock.

"Okay, my turn," I said when she had finished, grinning encouragingly. "Are you timing your test?"

"Yes of course."

As Izzy slid her bare bottom from the loo to the edge of the bath, I slipped off my own pyjama bottoms and sat down on the warm seat she had just vacated. I opened the last remaining test then rather more clumsily repeated Izzy's actions, pleased to feel the relief in my bladder as I counted the right number of seconds.

"There we are," I announced, placing the used test in my lap. "Let's see if they're inconclusive now!"

I began to time my own test with the clock on my phone but before I got half way, I was interrupted by an excited explosion from alongside me.

"Not Pregnant!" Izzy's voice was a high pitched squeal. "Look! Look! It's clear this time! I'm not pregnant Mum! I'm not pregnant!"

She hugged me; I hugged her, both of us relieved and happy.

"Oh my God, Mum," she was saying, her relief making her babble. "I'm so happy! I'm so happy! Oh God what a relief!"

It was a relief for me too. With my own marriage still in jeopardy, the last thing I needed was a pregnant daughter coming to terms with a second broken relationship within a matter of weeks. However smitten he was now, there was no way her boyfriend Simon would have wanted to stay with a girl of questionable morals carrying someone else's baby.

I sighed, silently thanking God for this news, cursing my daughter's lack of wisdom where boys were concerned and wondering whether any of it had been inherited from me. A feeling of relief washed over me when I realised I did not have to break the news to her father that his precious, innocent daughter was a slut just like his wife.

I was so relieved that it wasn't until I began to stand up that I noticed the window of the test lying on my own lap and the terrible word it contained.

'Pregnant!'

The world stopped revolving. My arms, legs and chest turned to stone. My breathing stopped.

"Are you okay, Mum? You've gone white!"