Sandy and Frank Ch. 02

"I had the weirdest reaction. Part of me worried about what he might say, what new problem might arise, while another part really hoped for something else...I don't know what. As I turned to face him I quickly looked to see if the others had gone. They were just pulling out and I didn't know whether that was good or bad.

"Frank hurried up to me, saying, 'I wanted to catch up with you because I won't see you until January and I wanted to return something to you.' With that he reached into his pocket and, to my intense embarrassment, pulled out my panties. I had completely forgotten that I had left them in his car and I'm sure I blushed just as deeply as I had feared doing when I first saw him. I was speechless and, to my complete surprise, was suddenly very aroused. I did not anticipate that reaction and, as I took them from his hand, all I could get out was 'Thank you!'

"It was the strangest feeling, standing there with my panties in my hand, physical proof of a different kind of connection between us. It was, as I said, embarrassing, but it was, somehow a very pleasant embarrassment - like falling down and your skirt going up and knowing that an attractive man can see your panties.

"I don't know how long that moment lasted, but after probably was a shorter time period that it seemed, Frank said again, 'I really am sorry, Sandy but I have to admit that I really enjoyed it anyway. I'm just very happy that it didn't cause any problems with your husband. No one will ever know except the two of us.' Then, with a grin, 'No signs and no evidence so no case!'

"Then, I did something which I don't think that I will ever understand. Something so bizarre and out of character that it seems inconceivable. I did just what you, jokingly, said I should do. Looking him in the eye, I said, 'No signs of evidence' huh. What do you call this?' Without any hesitancy or hurry, I calmly took the bottom of my sweater and pulled it up, completely exposing my bare tits! I just stood there in that public parking lot, bare-breasted, showing him what he had done to me!

"His reaction was exquisite to watch as he realized what I had done. I know that he first just looked at them, stunned at the sight. Then, of course, he focused in on the blemishes that marred my tits. 'My god, Sandy, I can't believe it. Did I do all of that? I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you?'

"'No, they're a little tender, but, other than a lot of marks and bruises, they're fine.' Blushing again, 'It didn't hurt when you were doing it, either.' Then, suddenly realizing that I was still exhibiting myself, I blushed anew and pulled my sweater down, saying, 'Well you can see that there is some evidence! Fortunately, it will go away.'

"'Good heavens, Sandy, you'll have to hide that from your husband! I am sorry I marked them up, but thanks for showing me - and you really do have lovely tits!'

"'That may be, but they're staying under my sweater from now on! And what we did last Saturday is not going to happen again! This is hard to admit, but I don't regret it. But it was a one-time thing where passions overcame us. I'm a very happily married woman and I'm going to stay that way!

"That was the end of it. We exchanged the normal 'Merry Christmas and Happy New Year' wishes and I got in the car and came home."

I just sat there, shocked, with my mouth literally hanging open. In some ways this was more astonishing than her being fucked. That was a seduction and passion, no real decision making. This was a conscious decision to show herself off, totally out of character for the woman I had known for so long. "I don't believe it! My shy wife deliberately showing her breasts to another man! What on earth caused you to do it and how did you have the nerve?"

"I honestly can't answer that. His apology had helped, of course, but I think that it was having my panties in my hand, the panties he had taken off of me. When he gave them to me I felt a real rush, almost as if it were a sexual act - I can't explain that but it was there. Then when he said that about having no problem with hiding it from my husband because there were no signs, I just felt this compulsion to show him! I didn't think, I just acted. I know that you were kidding this morning when you said that I should show them, but I think that made it easier somehow. In any case, he did apologize, the trauma I feared didn't occur, we're back to a normal friendship and I've made it clear that this was a one-time thing. Very satisfying outcome!

"One more thing. I don't really understand it, but I really liked him having my panties and giving them back to me like that. That was very personal and...well...exciting is the wrong word but it's close. I'm really glad that I showed him my tits. Somehow it just seemed right to share that with him. Still, the thing that I really can't understand is that I'm not as uptight about all of this as I was. Maybe it's closure or something, but I just don't feel as guilty as I did. All the things that bothered and worried me seem to be gone. I've been seen naked, I've been screwed by another man - adultery - and I just don't feel guilty! Heaven knows, I wouldn't feel this way without your support and approval, but I feel good! It seems that my sense of morality is quite flexible."

"Well, I still have a hard time picturing you showing your boobs like that, but I'm proud of you for having the nerve to do what you wanted. Gods, you certainly have changed over one weekend."

"I know. Saturday afternoon I was moral and upstanding, the image of a pure and modest wife. Now I'm depraved and debauched and I have no regrets!"

That statement pretty much summed up the situation and illustrated what I said about her being changed, psychologically a different woman. Oh, in almost ways she acted much as she always had, but she was much freer, more self-confident, than before. I guess that in some ways she had grown, although many people would have said "degenerated." Regardless, she no longer was apologetic about her actions that night and actually permitting herself to be sexually aroused thinking and fantasizing about it. Of course, her freedom came, in part, from my acceptance and arousal and my refusal to, in any way, to condemn her or her actions.

For the next few weeks this continued to be a subject of conversation and fantasizing when we engaged in sex - which was much more numerous than usual - but was not the central part of our existence. There was Christmas with all the shopping, wrapping, visiting friends, and a brief trip to visit Sandy's parents. All this was followed by New Year's and its parties. All-in-all, enough activity to put Sandy's extra-marital experience on the back burner - but certainly not forgotten.

After New Year's Day, however, we could relax and, with the prospect of the new semester ready to commence, questions about future relationships were bound to arise. A conversation about this was spurred on by a phone call Sandy got from Judy, announcing a "Welcome Back" party to be held the weekend before classes started. With the TA's back to get their schedules and class assignments, such a party was inevitable. We were lying in bed, quietly talking, when I casually commented that I'd bet that Frank was really looking forward to seeing her.

"Yeah, I imagine so. Actually, I'm looking forward to seeing him too. I don't think that I'll be embarrassed at all this time. I guess it's natural to feel closer to someone when you've shared an experience like that." Then, laughing, almost giggling, she added, "I'll bet that when he sees me across the seminar table he'll picture my tits! That's a funny feeling. Oh my heavens, I wonder if he'll compare me to the girls he'll take out this spring? That thought is embarrassing and exciting!"

"I wouldn't be surprised if he wanted a refresher course in what yours look like - or feel like!"

"Now, Mack, you stop that! He's not going to see or feel anything! I made it quite clear that what we had done was one-time only and I certainly have no intention of showing him anything. We just got carried away and he knew that it was wrong and apologized. In any case, there's no reason to think he would even be interested. There are others who would be delighted to go with him. Actually, it's going to be fun listening to Ruth and Judy gossip about him this semester."

'Well, of course you're right. Here you have an older grad student living on a TA's salary - not exactly rolling in money and it takes money to take girls out. He has a close friend, a married woman that he seems to like, with whom he shares an intellectual interest, and, to be blunt, who has already put out for him. Why on earth would you think that he might be interested in repeating the very pleasurable event! Of course he wouldn't! Silly thought." I made that gently sarcastic comment and started to laugh until I saw her face. It was frozen in shock.

"Oh, my god, Mack! I hadn't even thought of that. Do you really think that he will try something?"

Unbelievably, she genuinely hadn't thought that far ahead or considered what Frank might do. Somehow, in her naiveté, she thought that the events and her statement in the parking lot ended the matter and that he would accept her denial of any future activities. Putting it the way I had, she suddenly realized that he had a real motivation to do more. Of course she was naïve, but, also, she was inexperienced and certainly had never considered herself someone to be...well, lusted over. Suddenly, she was presented with the question, why wouldn't he want more?

"Look, Honey, I think that it's likely that he would love to do it again. Why not? He obviously likes you even if you leave sex out of it. You're pretty with a nice figure - which he's seen! It seems, from what you said, that the two of you had excellent, very hot sex. You're married so there are no entanglements, like the woman in Maine, to think about. As they say, what's not to like!"

"Damn! I wasn't even thinking about any of that but you're right. I specifically told him that it was a one-time thing and that I love my husband, but I know that you are right. Damn it, what am I going to do?"

"Now, wait a minute, dear. This may be an overreaction. He may accept you at you word and just be a close friend. Or, I'm afraid more likely, he'll want to be a friend 'with privileges.' If that's the case you can just be brutally honest and explicitly reject his advances. Or, maybe imply that you'd like to do something but you just can't - morals, religion, your husband, whatever. Or, you can just ride with someone else every time and eventually he'll get the message. Or, of course, you could ride with him and get fucked again!"

"Very funny! Do you have a choice from that list? Should I strip naked in the car and get knocked up?"

"Of course not. You'll wear your diaphragm next time!"

Sandy hurled a number of profane comments my way and flounced out of the room, leaving me laughing behind. Of course, she had reasons to worry. It's hard to believe that any woman in the modern would not have considered the problem and decided, long ago, what her solution would be. I'm sure that most women would have been prepared to fend off a lustful male in the same circumstances, rejecting them explicitly - delicately or cruelly - and end the matter. Sandy had to do some serious thinking.

As D-day approached, she became quite reserved and, seemingly conflicted. She asked me several time about what she should do and I simply replied, "Whatever you want." I was surprised by her uncertainty for I thought that it was just a question as to how to let him down gently when she said no, but I began to wonder. I never tried to pin her down, letting nature take its course. At the end, the day before the party, we were talking about who was going to be there and she, seemingly casual, commented on several people who could drive her home.

Anyway, the day came and, as before, I watched her dress. This time she wore a regular wool knee-length skirt and a heavy knit wool sweater - considerably more conservative than the last time. She wore her regular evening-wear hose and garter belt with lace panties. Ambiguous signs. We got our coats and we drove to Judy's and, as usual, I said "have a good time, I love you" and prepared to leave. At the last moment I couldn't help but ask, "Who's going to drive you home?"

"I don't know. It depends on how I feel."

"Do you have your diaphragm in?"

As she shut the door, she simply said, "Yes."