What Have They Done to Me? Pt. 02 Ch. 05

Part 4 Recap: I adjust to life as Robby's wife and enjoy it more and more as time goes by. But a part of me still yearns to be changed back. One day, I observe the combination to Robby's briefcase and plan to photocopy documents in hopes of blackmailing Genetech into making that happen. I start to have second thoughts, especially when I realize how upset I get when I observe another woman flirting with Robby. But I go forward with my plan regardless. Unfortunately for me, Robby is about to catch me photocopying his documents in the middle of the night.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl so that every second seemed like ten. I could plainly hear Robby making his way down the upstairs hallway wondering why I wasn't in bed. It was in that instant that a little voice inside of me spoke up: I have to stop the printer and get out of here. Now. But I knew I only had a matter of seconds to leave before Robby would be in plain view of the doorway to his office, which was located right at the foot of the stairs, and close enough to hear the copier. There wasn't a single instant to spare. But how to stop the printer? How? How?

And then it came to me - the plug! What an idiot I am!

In an instant, I grabbed hold of where the power cord was plugged into the back of the machine and quietly yanked it out of place, and the printer stopped instantly. Half the page was sticking out, but I couldn't worry about that now. There was no time. My only hope was that Robby wouldn't think to enter the office and find it there. In the meantime, I had to get out of here and away from the view from the top of the stairs, immediately.

I rushed as quietly as I could, closing the distance to the doorway in less than a second. And then, without even attempting to make sure the coast was clear - I knew there was no time for that - I crossed the foyer in front of the stairs and disappeared into the living room on the other side. I could only hope that Robby wasn't far enough down the upstairs hallway yet to see me.

As soon as I was out of sight, I heard Robby call for me again from the top of the stairs. "Erica?" I knew I had made it by a fraction of a second. He never would have called for me like that if he had seen me leave the office the way I did. But right then was when I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps descending the stairs. He was hurrying now - he was probably beginning to be concerned - and it would only be a matter of seconds before he was downstairs and found me sneaking around the house.

I needed an excuse as to why I was down here. What could I say? I wondered. What could I say?

The answer was obvious, and I was moving in that direction anyway: the kitchen. But I had to hurry, and I had to do it quietly. If he suspected I was moving around down here like this, he would get suspicious, and it would only take one cause for concern and one glance into his office for him to see what I was up to. I was moving as fast as I could, hoping against hope that the sound of my bare feet puttering on the floor wouldn't betray my location.

"Erica?" I heard him call again, this time at the bottom of the stairs. By now, he could clearly see inside the living room, but by then, I was already out of sight moving through the dining room adjacent to it. But regardless, I would have to answer him. There would be no pretending that I couldn't hear him from down here -- and I had to draw him away from the office. Nevertheless, I had to wait a couple seconds until I made it to the kitchen. If I didn't, he would be able to tell my voice was coming from someplace else. And if I didn't answer him at all, he would get suspicious. I kept moving, waiting as long as I dared, and then, with several feet still to go before I made it to the refrigerator, I answered him.

"Robby?" I said out loud, as if I thought I had heard him but wasn't sure.

A few more steps then there I was at last, in front of the fridge. But I still had to open it, and he probably would be able to hear that, too. And I needed to make him believe I had been there all along. And so, to muffle the sound of the refrigerator door opening, I shouted again, as loudly as possible this time.

"I'm in the kitchen!"

And that's how, just as Robby followed in my footsteps and came in clear view of the kitchen, moving where I had been mere seconds before that, I was standing there, innocently illuminated in the light of the refrigerator. I held my breath waiting to determine if he had any sense that I had been moving through the house mysteriously at a panicked pace like I was, but what he said next confirmed it - he didn't.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked.

The relief I felt was profound. I waited for a few seconds in order to catch my breath, dramatically scanning the shelves as if in search of something I had an appetite for.

"No," I responded. And then, as if I had given up, I closed the fridge and turned toward him. He was approaching me from the other side of the kitchen, dressed as he was when he had gone to bed, in nothing but a pair of tiny gray briefs which clung to the impressively large bulge of his manhood. The rest of his muscular form was fully exposed: his wide shoulders and powerful arms; his sinewy legs and chiseled abs; and his bulky, hairy pecs.

I knew I had to get him back upstairs. I knew I couldn't take any chance that, for whatever reason, he would decide to poke his head into his office and find the page sticking out of the copier. And I knew exactly what card to play.

"I was going to have a snack," I said. "I thought that would help me get to sleep." I took a couple steps forward, meeting him in the middle of the kitchen. "But..." I added, as I put my arms around his neck, "since you're up anyway, I think I have... another idea... of something that will... tire me out."

And at that, I leaned in and kissed him sensuously on the mouth. I lingered for quite a while before pulling away just enough to elaborate.

"But you can't have it, Robby," I said teasingly, leaning in and kissing him quickly this time, intentionally making the Muah sound of our lips as loud as possible. "It's not..." Muah. "... for..." Muah. "... you." Muah.

And then I took two steps back as if to challenge him, to make him come to me, to make him come get me.

"Oh, really?" Robby asked, clearly playing along.

"Uh huh," I said, with a defiant smile, and then I taunted him one final time. "You just... can't... have it."

That seemed to have quite an effect on Robby. He stared at me intently for a moment, and then, in one quick motion, he bent down, grabbed hold of me around my waist, and then lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder, like I weighed nothing. As always, I marveled at his strength, and I couldn't help but let out a playful yelp.

"Don't drop me!" I shrieked.

Robby turned around and carried me all the way through the house. I found myself giggling the whole way, up the stairs and into our room, and then he threw me onto the bed with surprising force. In an instant, he was climbing on top of me, grabbing hold of my wrists and pinning them above my head, and he was now breathing hard and looking at me hungrily.

Somehow, the sheer force and intensity in his actions and the way he was now restraining me seemed to make me incredibly aroused. And I realized something - I wanted him to be rough tonight. Really rough.

I wasn't quite sure why. Sean, Tyler, and Corey would fuck me like that all the time, and although a part of me hated it, a part of me didn't always hate it. Although it could get uncomfortable and even hurt at times, I couldn't deny that it sometimes intensified the physical pleasure I was experiencing, for whatever reason. Robby never got like that - at least, not quite like that. He was usually much more tender and sensuous and romantic, which I liked about him.

But for some reason, I didn't want him to be tender and sensuous and romantic tonight. I wanted him to fuck me hard - harder than ever. And I realized what it was - or, at least, what a big part of it was. It was because I felt guilty, and I thought that would help mollify it a bit.

Robby began kissing my neck as he continued holding me down, and I could feel his massive erection poking against me, straining against his briefs. We were both breathing hard, starting to push and rub our bodies against one another like cats in heat, and the words just slipped out of me.

"I've been bad, Robbie," I whispered.

"Yeah?" he responded as his kisses drifted to my ear.

"Really bad," I elaborated.

He started nibbling on my earlobe, but he was doing it too gently. I didn't want him to be gentle.

"I want you to fuck me hard tonight, Robbie," I said, as his kisses returned to my neck. "I want you to fuck me harder than you've ever fucked me before."

I could feel him getting more and more worked up. He was pushing against me harder, more eagerly, more impatiently, his kisses becoming more and more frenzied, and the force with which he was holding me down increasing.

"I want you to make me scream, Robby," I said. All of a sudden, I felt him gently biting my neck, which felt amazing. I wanted to encourage this, so I kept up the pressure. "I want everyone in the neighborhood to hear me scream, because I want them all to know... that I'm your bitch."

I have to say, I was surprising even myself. I really don't know what got into me.

By now, he was practically feasting on my skin, like he wanted to devour me. He kept my wrists held with one hand - such was his strength that it was more than enough - and with his other hand, he reached down and began yanking my thong down my legs.

"I need you to fuck the badness out of me, Robby," I pleaded. I started to push back against him with my hands, wanting him to apply even more force in order to continue holding me down. His mouth finally returned to mine, and he began kissing me aggressively - more aggressively than I think I've ever felt him kiss me before. It kind of felt like he was losing control. Which was good, because I wanted him to lose control.

"I need you to... punish me, Robby," I whimpered in one brief moment in between our frenzied kissing, all as he was now pushing his briefs down his legs. "I'm so very bad... and I need... to be punished..."

And with that, Robby guided his throbbing arousal into my body and began thrusting into me with greater intensity than he was accustomed to. I was moaning intensely with every drive of his hips, but it wasn't enough.

"Harder," I begged, as his mouth returned to my neck, giving it another bite. He started working the chemise I was wearing up my body, bit by bit, until it was finally pushed up far enough that it revealed my naked breasts. They were now bouncing up and down helplessly, but he managed to bring his mouth to them as he continued to thrust and started savoring my hardened nipples, which intensified my pleasure even more. As if inspired by that, he began fucking me with even greater force, but it still wasn't enough. I still needed more.

"Harder," I begged again, although I was finding it difficult to form words. It was like this was going to make all the guilt I felt go away

And at that, Robby was unleashed - wonderfully, blissfully unleashed. He was now fucking me with terrific force, giving Sean, Tyler, and Corey a run for their money. I was shrieking and yelping with every drive of his hips as he kept my wrists pinned above my head with one hand while his other hand roughly squeezed, groped, and manhandled the feminine softness of my uncovered body.

"Choke me, Robby," I directed him in between my helpless cries.

He didn't hold back. He roughly grabbed hold of my neck and tightened his grip so hard that I could barely breathe. I could tell he was enjoying this. And somehow, the feeling of my neck being squeezed like that intensified my pleasure even more.

Robby lowered his face until it was right up against mine as I continued to shriek with each and every drive of his hips. He was like a juggernaut, unstoppable and wonderfully unrestrained. I was overcome with my first orgasm in no time, but he didn't stop there. He just kept going and going, somehow holding his own back for an ungodly amount of time. I don't know how many times I came - they started coming more frequently after the first one and they eventually seemed to blend into one another - but it must have been at least five. It was the first time I had ever experienced multiple orgasms like that before.

At last, I could tell from his moans that he couldn't hold it back any longer. And I shocked even myself, because at that moment, I wanted him to humiliate me, to degrade me, to use me like a cheap whore.

I could barely form words, but I finally managed to say it.

"Cum on my face," I whimpered. It was something he had never done to me before, like he couldn't bring himself to degrade me in such a way, but it was no more than I deserved, and I wanted it now. "Please."

Robby didn't disappoint me. He finally let go of my wrists, pulled out of me, and maneuvered down the bed on his knees with his eagerly hardened penis in hand. He took aim, brought himself the rest of the way to his orgasm, and then his cock burst, shooting his warm, thick load all over my face, exactly the way I wanted, exactly the way I deserved. By the end, my face was covered with his semen, and I had to breathe through my mouth to avoid inhaling it through my nostrils.

A minute later, after we had both finally begun to settle down, Robby retrieved a towel from the bathroom and offered it to me. I couldn't open my eyes yet - there was too much cum on my eyelids - though I could feel him placing it into my hands. But I didn't accept it. I just lay there, practically comatose, still catching my breath. And so he took it upon himself to carefully wipe his semen off my face for me. And then he lay down next to me, grabbed hold of my body, and pulled me against him, holding me tightly afterwards.

"I needed that," I whispered, before drifting off into an uneasy sleep.

Without incident, I put the documents back in Robby's briefcase and hid the copy the following morning when I came down to get him his coffee. In hindsight, it was risky in the extreme to have allowed myself to fall asleep with it sticking out of the copier, but Robby was never up before me - he had grown accustomed to staying in bed until I woke him with a fresh cup of coffee. Regardless, though, I was more careful after that, only descending once a week, and never copying more than a couple pages at a time. I wasn't able to see them clearly at night with the lights off, so it was only during the daytime hours while Robby was at work that I was able to review what I had photocopied, and most of it was pretty innocuous and had to be discarded. All told, it took me a matter of weeks before I had accumulated what I needed.

It was on a Monday that finally, at long last, I decided to make my move. It took me days to build up the nerve. I had been procrastinating, not wanting to face it. And then I didn't want to ruin the weekend, especially since the weather was going to be so nice, and Robby suggested we take the boat out. And that's exactly what we ended up doing on Sunday.

We left at two o'clock and drove out to the marina where Robby kept it stored. I had never known anything about boats, but I had come to know this one - I had come to know it well. It was a deep shade of blue and roughly forty feet long and twelve across the beam (don't ask me what a beam is - that's just the way Robby had described it). It had a hardtop enclosure above the helm and cockpit which would have been great if it rained, though we never took it out when weather was a factor. Being behind the controls was like being in an airplane, with countless little switches and buttons and dials, almost none of which I understood. Right behind that was a U-shaped lounge with enough room for five or six people, and past that was my favorite spot of all, which Robby called a sunpad. That's where I would spread out and sunbathe while Robby drove the boat, and it was also a fantastic spot for sex (when no one was nearby, that is). There was also a swim platform where I could dive into the water and easily climb back in. Best of all, there was even a little cabin underneath that was kind of like an RV except much more cramped. It included a tiny little bathroom with a shower as well as a bedroom with a queen-sized bed (that was fine for sex, too, but there wasn't enough headroom to kneel on top of the mattress, which limited our options). It always amazed me that such a space could be crammed into a boat like this. With all of its accommodations, which included plenty of refrigerator space and even a microwave and coffee maker, we could probably live on the boat fairly comfortably for days on end, maybe even weeks assuming there were places to refill the fuel and fresh water stores. We hadn't taken it on an overnight trip yet, though Robby always talked about wanting to do this at some point. Despite how big it was - to me, it was giant - it could easily reach a top speed of fifty miles an hour, which was unbelievable to me. Robby named it Andiamo, which I guess is Italian for "let's go."

I was quiet on the drive, knowing this would be the last time I ever went out on the boat, which was easily one of my favorite things to do. This time, Robby decided to take it southward along the intercoastal waterway. I was used to this route, and I sat in the lounge area at first nursing a drink and watching the familiar waterfront residences and resorts pass by. We traveled about an hour until we reached a restaurant which actually had a dock so you could travel to it by boat, which I had always wanted to try, and Robby surprised me by telling me he got us reservations. So he docked the boat and we enjoyed an early dinner there, and it was some of the best seafood I ever tasted.

And then we were back on the boat, pulling away from the dock and heading south again. Robby kept going farther than we usually went which brought us to a wide open bay where we could access the ocean. It was then that I got the clearest view of dolphins I had ever had in my life. Robby cut power to the engine as soon as we saw them and let the boat drift for a while, and they seemed to be everywhere, all around us. One even dove out of the water like on TV not one hundred feet away from us, which absolutely delighted me.

Robby's plan was to take the boat into the ocean far away from shore so we could watch the sunset in open water, then return to the marina by way of the sea as opposed to going back the way we came. But he wanted to make one stop first. On one side of the bay was a secluded beach we had never been to before, which was inaccessible by cars, so Robby steered the boat in this direction and brought it close enough to shore so that we could climb down into waist-deep water then walk right up onto the beach. We spent about a half hour there exploring the sandy terrain, then sat for a while on the beach watching the waves roll in. He planted himself behind me and started rubbing my shoulders for a while, so I peeled off the tanktop I was wearing above my bikini to give him easier access to my skin. He always seemed to know exactly how to touch me.

Then it was back to the boat - Robby heaved up the anchor and we crossed the bay and he steered the vessel through the inlet toward open water. I lay on the sunpad for a while with a cushion behind my head so it was propped up enough that I could watch the shoreline drift farther and farther away in the distance. All the while, Robby was blasting music that we both enjoyed. By now, it was getting late in the evening, and Robby once again killed the engine and brought the boat to a stop so I could dive into the warm water and do a little swimming, like he knew I'd want to do. Then, once I had gotten that out of my system and toweled off, he turned the boat northwards as the sun seemed to pick up speed on its journey through the sky. He let me drive it for a while, which was always fun to do, especially when I pushed up the throttle and got it up to top speed. But after a while, I got a little bored of it and let him take over again.

We weren't far from our starting point, where there was another little inlet which would eventually lead us to the canal where the marina was located, as the sun finally began dropping below the horizon. As always, the view was absolutely breathtaking. Robby sat next to me with his arm around me holding me tightly against him while the sun set, and he leaned in and kissed me on my temple right as it finally disappeared. I found myself getting emotional, but I held back tears like I knew I had to. He returned to the controls and brought the boat to top speed, racing through the waves in the gathering darkness while I enjoyed the feeling of the mist gently brushing up against my face and the wind blowing through my hair.

We docked the boat back at the marina and drove home. At last, we arrived, and Robby and I headed up to the bedroom to begin our normal nightly routine, which would inevitably end up with us having sex. But tonight was going to be a little different. Tonight was special. Robby had shown me such a wonderful day, and this was going to be my last night with him after all, and I wanted it to be special for him - extra special. I wanted to make it all up to him. Not just the boat trip, but everything - all the good things he had done for me, and the bad thing I was about to do to him.

As soon as we passed through the doorway - I was in the lead - I abruptly turned and grabbed Robby by the waistband of his shorts and pulled him into me so that he was pressed right up against my body, towering over me. I didn't say anything at first, though judging by my actions and the circumstances, my intentions were probably pretty obvious, and he had a wide, expectant smile on his face. I didn't say anything at first, though - I just stood there, staring up in his eyes, and at last, it was he who broke the silence.

"You have a good time today?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

I nodded.

"I'm glad."

I paused a beat before speaking.

"Now, I want to return the favor," I said softly. I took a tiny step back and brought my hands to his shirt and slowly began unbuttoning it. He just continued to stand there while I worked, his eyes locked with mine. Judging by his breathing, his excitement and anticipation were evident. As soon as I was done, I pushed open his shirt and let it fall to the floor behind him. I broke eye contact with him only briefly, as I couldn't help but take in the sight of his broad, manly chest, which I had come to know so well and even appreciate. Then, as my eyes returned to his, I brought my hands to his crotch, pulled at the string of his swim shorts to loosen them, and started pushing them down his body. I broke eye contact with him again as I lowered myself to guide his shorts farther down his legs, releasing his manhood. It was somewhat hard to do this with his already stiff erection straining against the fabric and getting in the way, but I gently wiggled it farther and farther down until his hardened cock flopped out and was now sticking straight out, pointed toward my face. Normally, I would have started tending to it immediately - kissing it, licking it, nuzzling it, then maybe sucking on his big hairy testicles. But this wasn't what I had in mind for tonight.

I stood up and once again stared him straight in the eyes for a few seconds before speaking. "Lie down."

Robby's happy gaze lingered for a moment before he turned around and started climbing into bed, naked as he was. He was on his back at first, but that's not what I wanted.

"On your stomach."

Robby seemed to love the way I was taking control, since he was the one who normally called the shots in bed. He turned over onto his stomach, his entire naked backside exposed. I shed the tank top and shorts I had worn over my swimsuit, leaving me only in my tiny pink bikini. This I decided to leave on, since I knew having something to remove could often increase the excitement and anticipation for a man. I then climbed on top of him so that I was straddling him, perched on top of his bare, rounded butt, then I began to massage his upper body as he groaned in delight. I did this for quite a while, kneading his thick muscles like they were dough - his shoulders and upper arms and traps and shoulder blades - then I rubbed my way down along his spine to his lower back and lingered there for a while, methodically digging my fingers and palms into the firmness of his body. Then I went back the way I came and once again massaged his shoulders and upper back for a while longer, since this is what elicited the most enthusiastic responses. Then I repositioned myself farther down the bed and began rubbing his feet for a while, which was something I didn't normally do. Tonight, I was pulling out all the stops. He seemed to like that. After that, I massaged my way up his firm, hairy calves and quads and then dug into the meaty firmness of his butt for a while, which I knew he loved, then continued going up his back and returned where I had started from.

I probably spent at least an hour massaging his body, long past the point where my hands were tired. His delighted groaning and satisfied breathing was all the motivation I needed. But at last, I decided it was time. I started running my fingertips along his skin then leaned in close to him and started to sensuously kiss his upper body and flick my tongue against it. I did this up and down his neck and along his shoulders and upper back for at least a minute. Then, I positioned myself so my mouth was right up against his ear, and I started to kiss it and tug at his earlobe.

"On your back," I whispered to him. "Now I have to do... the other side."

Robby rolled over, exposing the front of his muscular body. He had lost his erection by now and I could see he wasn't ready for me yet - he was still too relaxed - but I knew I would be able to make short work of that. I started massaging the front of his naked body now, digging my hands into his firm, thick chest and the upper part of his abs, up and down, left and right. Gradually, bit by bit, I started applying less and less pressure until I was barely pushing at all and merely caressing his skin, then let my fingertips do all the work. I concentrated on his pecs and abs and only gradually drifted closer and closer to the center of his manhood. At that point, I leaned in close until my face was right against his. His eyes were still closed because of how relaxed he was, which I loved.

"Open your eyes," I suddenly whispered to him.

His eyes immediately opened and met mine. I spent a few seconds gazing into them, without saying a word. And then: "I had such a good time today, baby," I said.

"Yeah?" he said, in a dreamy, lost kind of way, as I continued to gently caress his body with my fingertips, drawing closer and closer still. Judging by his heavy breathing and the way he began moving his hips up and down, I knew it was having its intended effect. It always did with Robby.

At that point, I reached down, and found his cock once again hard as a rock, sticking straight up, like I knew it would be. I wrapped my hand around it and relished his excited exhalations as this part of him was finally stimulated the way he craved. I gripped his foreskin and started to move my hand up and down steadily but also slowly. Then I leaned in until my lips were right up against his own.

"I had such a good time," I whispered. "And now... I wanted to find a way to say thank you."

This is how I decided to do it. I decided I was going to do all the work, so Robby could just lay there and enjoy it. But I wasn't going to suck his cock, which I had done probably a hundred times before. And I wasn't going to ride his cock, either, which I didn't do quite as often but was still something he was more than accustomed to. I was going to do something a little different tonight - something a little special. It was something Tyler had me do to him once, and I knew if I had been a man having this done to me, I would have appreciated it.

And so I maintained my grip, moving it up and down, up and down, up and down, all the while keeping my face inches from his own. And as I worked his stiff cock, I started engaging him with my mouth - first his lips, then his cheeks, then his ears, then his neck - kissing, licking, nibbling, biting, ever so slowly, ever so gently.

Judging by the breathless moans that were escaping him, it didn't take long before I could tell he was ready to ejaculate. But I wasn't going to allow that to happen yet. I continued just as steadily, maintaining the same exact pace - I wanted his body to get used to it - until at last, I could sense that he was approaching the very edge of his orgasm. And that's when I came to a complete stop while maintaining my grip on his erection. The way he began moving his hips up and down showed me that his body, acting almost of its own accord, was going to try to force it the rest of the way. But I wasn't going to allow that to happen.

"Not yet," I whispered into Robby's ear.

And so, as soon as I felt him moving his hips, trying to force the friction that would bring him the rest of the way to his orgasm, I let go. I waited about ten or fifteen seconds until I was satisfied that he had sufficiently settled down. Then I wrapped my hand back around his throbbing erection and started working it again, the exact same way as before. And just like before, I used my mouth to stimulate him as well - this time, I concentrated on his neck and pecs and nipples. And then, as soon as I felt him getting too close, my hand came to a complete stop. And when he again started moving his hips up and down, I let go of it entirely, and waited a few seconds before resuming.

Right from the start, I had to be ever so observant. I had to pay attention to every single breath, every single moan, every single "Oh, fuck" and "Oh, God"; I had to pay attention to the way his cock felt in my hand - how it always seemed to harden just a tiny bit more when he was right at the edge - in order to hold it back for as long as I could.

His moaning was like music to my ears. Every time he moaned, it was clear evidence of how good he felt, frustrated though he might be. I remembered when the boys had done this exact same thing to me, and although I found it to be excruciatingly frustrating, it was also incredible. Orgasms were great and all, but they happened so fast, there and gone in a heartbeat. I wanted to give Robby an experience that would last; I wanted to keep him on the very edge for as long as I could. I wanted to force him to enjoy it. But it goes against the grain - it's not what the body wants. The way our bodies are wired, we want the end so badly that instinct kicks in and the temptation to keep going becomes too great. But doing it this way was just so much better.

And so I continued to maintain my grip, bringing him to the very edge again and again only to stop at that very moment, and then I would only start back up again when I was reasonably sure he could last a little longer. This whole time, I was enjoying myself. I was doing all sorts of different things - I was kissing his neck, I was tugging at his earlobe, I was pecking his lips, I was sucking his tongue or wrestling it with my own. I would also drift down to his chest and stimulate his nipples, then I would go even farther down so I could be licking his abs and sucking on his balls and tickling his inner thighs with my tongue. And all the while, I was paying attention, becoming an expert at how his body gets as he approaches the point of no return. And when he reached that point, that's when I stopped, and his constant moaning was evidence of how good this was for him.

I didn't want it to end. I loved pleasuring Robby. I don't think I truly understood how much I loved it. So I wanted to stretch this out, make it last - not just because I felt guilty for what I was going to do tomorrow, but also because I loved making him feel good. And so I was determined to keep him like that for quite a while. When Tyler had me do this to him, he didn't last very long. Within the first ten minutes, he couldn't take it anymore and directed me to keep going. Early on, Robby was asking me to do the same. But I wasn't going to. I was going to make it last. Pretty soon, he was begging me not to stop, begging me to keep going, begging me to let him cum. But I knew better than he did. I knew he would like it more if I didn't.

And so I kept him in this heavenly state for the longest time - I'm not entirely sure how long, it may have been a half hour, maybe even more. But here's the thing - I might have been having an even harder time than he was. I found myself desperate to make him cum. I was entirely unprepared for how hard it would be for me to keep him like this. I was probably more desperate for it than he was. I could feel it, in every cell of my body - this aching need to get him off. This whole time, I was transfixed by the sight of his hardened penis in my hand - this part of him that I had come to know so well, which brought him so much joy, so much pleasure, and I wanted it to burst. I couldn't believe how bad I wanted it, because that would be bringing him to the height of his pleasure. And, I'm not going to lie, I'm not ashamed to admit this, but I realized there was a certain unbelievable allure to it. It's hard to explain, but it was like there was a part of me, buried within my feminine subconscious, that knew it would unleash something that could put a baby inside of me if the circumstances were right, which was the sole purpose of sex after all. And so maybe it was something that I was evolutionarily primed to long for, if it was with the right man that is. I know that might sound weird, but I don't care. The fact is that a part of me loved it when he came, was desperate to make him cum, and holding it back was excruciating.

In the end, that's what did it. Robby seemed to have given up on trying to control things and force it, since I was clearly not going to allow it, and he was clearly enjoying himself. But at last, I couldn't take it any more. I had to make it happen. And so, in the end, I couldn't stop myself anymore, and I kept going beyond the point I had always stopped before - I stroked him for just a little bit longer, all as one great long groan was escaping him. It was like I could feel the pressure building, and my hand froze, but it was too late. All it took were the tiniest movements of Robby's hips, and all of a sudden, his moaning intensified more than ever, like I had never heard from him before. And immediately, his dick burst like a geyser, and a warm jet of his cum exploded out of him with incredible force, arcing more than a foot into the air and landing mostly on his abs. Such was my excitement that I was moaning, too.

I waited a second, then moved my hand just enough to elicit another animalistic moan, and another shot of his cum, just as substantial as the first, erupted out of him. I did that again and again and again, always waiting a second or two in between the movements of my hand. And it just kept coming, and Robby just kept moaning. I had come to know very well how much Robby was capable of ejaculating, but it was never like this. It was like delaying it for so long had made it build and build and build to an astounding degree. There must have been ten sizable bursts before it finally started diminishing, though there was still some dribbling out of him onto my hand. Even after he was clearly empty and there was nothing left inside of him, I could still feel his cock contracting, generating more waves of pleasure for him. By then, his cock was slick with his semen, and - although the contractions eventually stopped - I continued to move my hand up and down it, and Robby was still moaning, even as I could feel his dick begin to deflate and relax.

Gradually, there were words mixed in - "oh fuck" was about all he could manage at first - and that continued for quite a while, too. "Oh, fuck," he would say, again and again and again. "Oh, fuck." But finally, there was a change. "Holy shit.... Holy shit." That's what told me he was finally starting to come to his senses.

"Holy shit," he said one final time. "What the fuck was that?" He finally managed to lift his head and open his eyes to meet mine. "Where the fuck did that come from?" he asked. And then he threw his head back on the bed and let out one final groan. "Holy shit."

My hand finally released his cock, which flopped over in a state of relaxedness. It had done its duty, after all.

"Baby," he said, lifting his head and meeting my eyes once again. "Holy fuck."

I'm not going to lie - I was absolutely relishing this. I don't think I had ever been more turned on in my entire life than I was at that moment. There was something about his pleasure that did something to me - something deep, something profound.

And all of a sudden, I had an urge to take it one step further. I wanted to please him. I wanted to please him bad. I gave him a flirty, mischievous little smile, and then, "Oh no," I said. "I made a mess."

My eyes drifted down to where the ropes of cum were spread across his abs and amidst the forest of his pubic hair, then drifted back to his face.

"Looks like I need to... clean it up."

And that's exactly what I did - I lowered my head, stuck out my tongue, and started lapping his cum up like a kitten lapping up milk. I concentrated on his abs at first, tackling the most substantial accumulations, and the whole time, I could sense him watching me. I started making it even more dramatic, and I slowed down as I ran my tongue along his skin before drawing his cum into my mouth and swallowing, and then I would lower my lips to where it was pooled and basically slurp it up. I'm not going to sugarcoat things - it was pretty gross - but I didn't care. At that moment, nothing mattered to me except his pleasure and satisfaction, and I would do anything to achieve that.

I did this for about a minute or two, leaving layers of it still hopelessly smeared across his skin. Then I began to tackle my hand, sucking up the globs and drops of semen that had ended up there as well. I barely resisted the urge to grimace as I experienced the grossness of the taste and texture.

At last, I stopped - I hadn't gotten all of it off my hand, but I had gotten most of it, and Robby was looking at me with an expression of boundless love and adoration, and I could tell he was infinitely satisfied with my performance. I couldn't help but wonder why men are so pleased when a woman swallows his cum like I just did. I used to feel that way when I was a man, after all. I think it's because it's a way for a woman like me to tell her man in no uncertain terms that she loves him. Because she really doesn't like to do it, because it's so gross, but she also knows he likes to see her do it, and so she's going to do it anyway, because she wants to demonstrate how much she loves him. She wants it so bad that she will happily subject herself to something gross in order to show him.

Honestly, I'm not sure who enjoyed that more - me or Robby.

Eventually, after I had sufficiently cleaned him off with a towel, I found myself falling to sleep still in my bikini wondering how on Earth I was about to do what I intended to do the following day. But I pushed these thoughts aside. I have to, I told myself. Once again, I already made this decision. And now there was nothing left to do but to go along with it whether I like it or not. It was time to get it over with.

The morning was hard, knowing what was going to happen later, and so I wanted it to be just like any other morning. Like usual, I woke up comfortably in Robby's arms and managed to extricate myself from his embrace so I could brew him a cup of coffee. Then I brought it back to him and set it down on his night stand and joined him in bed, lying on my side with him behind me. He saw it for the invitation it was and immediately moved in close and started kissing the back of my neck. He soon began humping me with more and more reckless abandon, and then he wiggled my bikini bottom down my legs, and we made love, with me still on my side and Robby holding me tight. And then we finally left the bed, and Robby showered while I made him some eggs and toast. We had taken too long earlier so he was in a bit of a hurry, and he had to eat fast and was only able to give me a very quick kiss on his way out the door so he wouldn't be late for his first meeting.

I had planned to wait for Robby to come home from work before I did it. All day, as I went about my normal daytime routine, I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach which continued to build and build. It wasn't just nervousness - I was scared. I was scared at how it would go, scared at what Robby might do, scared about what was going to happen to me. I tried not to think about it, but deep down inside, I knew I would be putting myself in an incredibly dangerous position.

And I was also devastated - devastated for what I was about to do to him, how I was about to ruin everything.

What made it even worse was that Robby ended up having to work late. He called me to let me know not to bother making dinner for him, saying he was going to have something delivered to the office. This did happen from time to time, so it wasn't completely out of the ordinary. But why did it have to be today? All that did was give me more time to fret, more time for the anxiety and guilt to overwhelm me. I just wanted to get it over with.

He called me at eight o'clock, letting me know he was on his way at last. It was time.

I got everything ready and took my place on one end of the dining room table. Normally, I would have changed and dolled myself up for Robby, but that somehow felt wrong, disingenuous, so I just stayed in what I had been wearing all day - a comfortable black tank top and tight pink leggings - with my hair tied back in a ponytail and my make-up barely done. I tried my best to calm myself by breathing steadily and clearing my mind, but it was useless.

"Erica?" I heard Robby say from the entryway when he finally came home and closed the door behind him. He wasn't accustomed to me not rushing in there to greet him.

"I'm in the dining room," I called to him.

I heard Robby set his briefcase down and take off his shoes, and then, a few seconds later, there he was at the entrance to the dining room. At first, I observed the usual happy expression he wore when he came home to me, but that gradually vanished from his face. The sight of me sitting there, my hands folded in front of me at one end of the table, dressed as casually as I was and probably looking as grim as I felt, seemed to stop him in his tracks - especially with the thick folder of papers on the other side, as I was obviously waiting for him to examine the contents. It looked like he needed a few seconds to absorb this unfamiliar, unexpected setting, and all the while, I had to suppress the urge to vomit.

"What's going on?" Robby asked.

It took me a moment to say the words. "We need to talk," I replied.

"Talk about what?" I could hear the concern in his voice. I could only imagine the thoughts that were going through his mind at that moment. After all, nothing good comes when someone says, "We need to talk."

I shifted my gaze to the folder, a clear gesture that I wanted him to open it.

I heard Robby take a deep breath, and then he approached the table and took a seat on the opposite end where the folder awaited him. But he just sat there for a few seconds, not moving, his expression blank. I got the distinct impression that he knew exactly what was going on, that he knew exactly what would be in that folder, but that he needed a few seconds before opening it and confirming it.

At last, he opened the folder. The nervous anticipation intensifying inside of me was almost too much to bear as Robby began thumbing through the papers. But it didn't seem to take him long to understand what they signified.

"There are other copies," I suddenly heard my voice saying.

Robby closed the folder and returned my gaze. He continued to sit there, stone-faced, evidently refusing to allow his emotions to show.

"Where?" he asked.

"With an attorney," I replied. My voice was soft, quiet, barely above a whisper.

I heard him take a deep breath, then he sat back in his chair. "An attorney."

I nodded. "Yes." I put my hands in my lap, not wanting him to see them tremble the way they were. "They are sealed in a manilla envelope. In thirty days, he is going to open the envelope and then release them - unless I tell him not to."

I could only imagine how Robby must have been struggling to understand this, to come to grips with this sudden, unexpected turn of events. I knew it must have been such an incredible shock to him, especially considering how normal - how good - things had been up until this moment.

"How did you get them to him?" he asked after a moment. It was clear that he didn't need me to tell him the rest - to explain that I had seen the code to his briefcase, took sensitive papers from it when he wasn't looking, and used his copier to duplicate them. He was smart enough to deduce all that.

"I mailed them."

"Of course you mailed them," he said angrily, as if he was frustrated that I had said something so obvious. "I want to know how."

I gulped. I had rehearsed this conversation a hundred times, but it wasn't going the way I thought it was going to go. It was somehow worse and better all at the same time. Regardless, though, the anger in his voice shook me to my core. I had been expecting him to be angry - in fact, I had been expecting him to be enraged - but now that it was happening, I felt like I wasn't ready for it. It was a side of him I had never experienced before.

"He sent me the envelopes and postage through the mail," I replied, the shakiness in my voice unmistakable. "It was part of our... arrangement."

"How did you get in touch with him?" Robby then asked. To my surprise, he sounded more curious than anything. I didn't have a phone or any other way of contacting the outside world, after all, and I never spoke with anyone unless an employee of Genetech was present, though it was probably pretty obvious now that they should have taken more precautions to monitor the mailbox. I didn't expect him to be so interested in the logistics, but I decided to answer him honestly.

"I saw a commercial, which had his office address, and mailed him a letter."

"I don't keep stamps here," he interjected.

"I got one from Samantha, that day I went over to her house," I explained. "And an envelope. I told her I needed to mail something that day but ran out." I was sure he had reviewed the camera footage the day I had set off the tracking device, and I had a hunch he would be replaying it in his head now, so I decided to elaborate. I felt I owed it to him to be forthright, and he clearly wanted to know how I was able to pull this off. "I positioned myself so the cameras wouldn't show her handing it to me and me putting it into my pocket."

Robby continued to stare at me wordlessly. It was clear he wanted me to continue, to tell him the rest.

"In the letter, I explained what I wanted him to do - to send me enough stamps and one large manilla envelope and a few smaller ones so I could send them back to him, and that I would need him to keep it sealed and unopened unless he didn't hear back from me in thirty days." I paused again. "If that were to happen, he's to open it and follow the instructions that I included inside, and he's going to mail them."

"To who?" Robby asked matter-of-factly.

"The news," I replied. "And the Attorney General's Office."

I could see it in his eyes that he clearly understood the potential implications.

"Why would he just blindly follow your instructions if you aren't paying him?" he asked.

"I did pay him," I replied. "I sent him five hundred dollars in cash. As a down payment for his services."

"From where?"

I felt increasingly guilty because of how much effort I had obviously put into all this behind Robby's back.

I paused, feeling particularly guilty at this next part. "I'd pocket some of the tips you'd leave at restaurants when you weren't looking." I paused again, needing to clarify: "I always left enough for the waitresses to be satisfied."

Robby took another deep breath, as if struggling to control himself. "Have you considered the possibility that this attorney might open it anyway and see what's inside?" He said it in a vexed, desperate manner. "Do you have any idea how bad that would be for the company? Do you have any idea what they would do to us if that were to happen?" He was looking at me with a gleam of fear in his eyes. "These are very, very powerful people you're fucking with, Erica."

"He's not going to," I replied quietly.

"How do you know?"

"We have a contract," I replied. "In the letter, I told him what I wanted and asked him to draw one up and send it with the envelopes."

Robby didn't look convinced.

"He's an attorney," I said reassuringly. "He's not going to violate his own contract."

"Well, you just thought of everything, didn't you?" Robby asked mockingly, though it was clearly rhetorical.

It took me a few seconds to offer a response. "I had to," I said meekly. "I didn't have a choice."

Robby seemed to soften a bit, then he rose to his feet. For a split second, I wondered if he would rush over to me to vent his anger - to strike me, strangle me, pick me up and hurl me against the wall - but he didn't. Instead, he clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace, as if trying to work things out in his head.

After a few seconds, he stopped and turned toward me.

"We could force you to get it back, you know," he said menacingly.

I gulped once again, but I was prepared for this.

"I thought of that," I said. "But I don't think you would do that. I don't think you're that cruel." I paused. "And you love me too much."

He suddenly looked completely and entirely deflated. I could see the hurt in his eyes. "And I thought you loved me too," he said, his pain evident. "But it was all an act," he added coldly.

"Robby, it wasn't an act," I immediately said. And I realized at that moment that I meant it. I meant it with every fiber of my being. "I do love you. I really do."

"Then why are you doing this?" he asked. I could hear the exasperation in his voice.

"Because I want to be changed back," I said pleadingly.

Robby looked at me with an expression on his face like he truly felt sorry for me, like he suddenly felt guilty himself.

"So those are your terms?" he asked matter-of-factly.

"Yes," I replied. I took a deep breath. This part I had rehearsed many times. "I want the tracking chip removed and to be turned back into a man within thirty days."

Robby started to pace again. "They'll never let you go," he said. "You're too much of a threat to them."

"Robby, I'm not a threat to them," I responded. "I would have no reason to go after them like that. And even if I did, I would have no evidence. There were always rumors about what Genetech was doing. Even if I did say something, which I wouldn't, they could just dismiss me as a crazy lunatic who's desperate for attention, and nobody would doubt them."

Robby's silence made it clear that he wasn't convinced.

"They can have me followed, tap my phone lines, monitor my emails - I don't care," I added. "I have no desire to cause problems for them. I just want to go back to living a normal life. A normal life as a man."

Robby just continued to pace.

"Robby, they owe it to me for what I've done for them," I added. "It was me who got Sean, Tyler, and Corey in line like they needed me to. And they owe it to me for what happened to me. You said it yourself - the Board of Directors didn't intend for this to happen. They didn't intend for Roberts and Reilly to use someone like me. But they did." There was a touch of outrage in my voice, which surprised me. "What happened to me was wrong, and it was because of them, and they need to fix it."

Robby stopped pacing and was silent for a moment. Then he took a seat, his head bowed.

"What you did to me was wrong," he said. "And it was cruel. All this time, I thought you were happy. And all this time, you've been hiding all this and sneaking around behind my back."

"I had no choice," I said again. "It was the only way I could think of. If you want to blame someone, blame the company." I paused and shook my head. "For God's sake, Robby - I have a tracking chip in my head. I'm not allowed to leave the property. If I go outside, I have cameras watching my every move." Saying these things was reminding me of how unfair it all was, and I was getting more and more upset. "I'm not allowed to have a phone. I'm not allowed to have a computer. I can't even get a gaming console because I might use it to message someone. I'm not even allowed to talk to anyone without one of you present.

"And there's something else, something you don't know because I never talked to you about it." I took a deep breath to prepare myself. I knew if I didn't fortify myself, I would immediately burst into tears, and I didn't want that now. "I want to have a baby." I could tell by the look on Robby's face that this took him completely by surprise, though he was clearly going to great lengths to contain his emotions. "I never wanted this before. The thought of that would have been horrifying to me. But now, I want to have a baby more than anything in the world, and I know I can't. And it's all because of what they did to me and the way they designed me." I took another deep breath. "There were times I actually thought about telling you this and seeing how you felt about adopting one. But I never did, because that's not what I really want. I don't just want to have a baby - I want to have my baby. And I know I never can, and I never will, and it breaks my heart, and I'll never stop feeling this way." I paused. "I shouldn't be feeling this way," I added bitterly. "I don't want to feel this way anymore."

Although tears started building in my eyes, I was amazed I got through all that without losing control, though I knew I couldn't dwell on that topic anymore.

"If there was another way, and I didn't think of it, I'm sorry," I said honestly. "This was all I could think of. And I had no choice but to do it behind your back." By now, the tears were spilling down my cheeks. "Do you know what it was like? This whole time, I had to live with the fear of getting caught. Because if I had gotten caught, I had no idea what was going to happen to me, though I'm sure it probably wouldn't have been good. I had to do it all knowing I might get sent right back to that penthouse, or else someplace just like it." I paused, struggling to regain my composure. "Or someplace worse."

There were several seconds that passed before Robby finally spoke, and when he did, his voice was completely different from before. It was softer. It was normal.

"I hated them for what they did," Robby began, staring at me deliberately. It felt like I would be forever haunted by the look in his eye. "I hated it. And I fought it. You have no idea how hard I fought it. I fought against everything. I fought against leaving the tracking chip in. I fought against not giving you the antidote - which, by the way, I had demanded, from the very start, and they had refused, until those... complications happened, and they had no choice."

I remembered the conversation after we first got married, when I thought I had been so clever - manipulating him into having them give me the antidote. I remembered the way he had looked at me when I first suggested it, which I couldn't quite put my finger on at the time. I thought he selfishly didn't want me to get the antidote, because it was obviously so beneficial for him. But it wasn't that at all. He was looking at me like that because he had already tried to get them to give it to me, and they had refused, and he didn't believe they would ever allow it.

"I fought against the cameras. I fought against the phone restriction, the computer restriction, the driver. I fought against it all." He paused. "I didn't want this. But they told me again and again this was the only way it was going to be, or else they were going to take you back." He paused. "They didn't want to let you go, Erica, and this was the only way they were going to allow it."

I never knew any of this. It made me feel even worse than I already did.

"I never would have kept this up if I knew," he said. He didn't elaborate on what "this" was, but he didn't need to. It was obvious he meant our romantic relationship. "I never would have kept it up for a single minute more. And now, I have to live with the fact that every time I held you, every time I kissed you, every time we had sex, you were hating it. Every time you smiled, every time you kissed me back, every time you touched me, it was all just an act."

I could hear the anguish in his voice and I couldn't stand it. Until now, I had expected him to be angry. I hadn't been prepared for him to be heartbroken.

"Robby, I didn't hate it. And it wasn't an act," I said emphatically. I couldn't stand for him to think this way. "With the others, I did those kinds of things because I had to. With you, I did those things because I wanted to. Because I enjoyed it."

He turned away from me and didn't speak for several seconds.

"You were wrong about me, you know," he said. "You were wrong." He paused. "I cared about you. I loved you. If you had told me the truth, I would have helped you. If you had been honest with me, if I had known how you felt, I would have copied those documents and mailed them myself."

I was completely taken aback. I had never even considered that possibility. It was only then that I realized how stupid I was not to have trusted him and confided in him. How could I have misjudged him so badly? How could I have thought the worst about him in such a way? And I regretted it. I regretted it more than I had ever regretted anything in my entire life.

"I couldn't have known that for sure," I said. It was all I could manage. When this conversation began, all I had felt was fear - fear over what he would do, fear over how he would respond, fear over what would happen. Gradually, bit by bit, as I expressed what had happened to me and how unfair it all was, a lot of that fear had been replaced by conviction, even righteousness. But now, all I felt was guilt - guilt and remorse.

"Robby, I'm sorry," I finally managed to spit out.

He just looked at me for a moment, then sighed and got to his feet.

"I'll talk to the others tomorrow and tell them what's going on and I'll do what I can," he said with finality. "I don't know what's going to happen, but it's not going to happen right away. In the meantime, you're free to stay here. But I'm not going to be here. After today, I don't ever want to see you again."

His words hit me like a freight train. It was only then that the magnitude of what was happening truly began to sink in - the magnitude of what I had done to this man, how I had upended his life, how I had betrayed him.

"I'll stay at a hotel until whatever happens happens. For tonight, you can have the bedroom. I'll sleep on the couch."

And with that, he began walking away.

"I'll sleep on the couch," I said suddenly, as if that was the one single thing - the one single solace - that I could offer him. The sound of my voice stopped him in his tracks. "Please."

It looked like he was considering that momentarily, then nodded. "Fine."

And with that, he was gone.

I didn't see him for the rest of the evening. He stayed upstairs and didn't once come down for anything - not for something to eat, not for something to drink, not for anything. It was like he didn't even want to be on the same floor as me. Not that I could blame him.

I didn't know what to do with myself. I spent a while just sitting there with my head in my hands, reflecting on all that had happened and the way things had gone, the things he had said. My emotional state was like being in the eye of a hurricane. I had no idea what to do; I was only trying to get through each individual moment, moment by moment. I tried to occupy myself for a while by watching TV, but I couldn't enjoy anything. I kept wishing I had Robby with me. I just kept wishing he would come downstairs, though if he did, I didn't know what I would do. I didn't know what I would say.

Eventually, I stripped off my leggings and lay down on the couch with a blanket and pillow I had retrieved from the closet. I didn't know how I was ever going to fall asleep. I tried, but I couldn't. The minutes passed. The hours passed. And I just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, knowing Robby was on the other side of it. And all the while, I was thinking to myself - I did it. My plan worked. I photocopied the documents. I got them to a lawyer. I confronted Robby. I did what I thought was impossible. I was going to get what I had wanted for so long. I should be happy.

Except, here's the thing - I didn't know it was what I wanted anymore, and I wasn't happy. More and more, I realized what I really wanted was on the other side of that ceiling.

At last, as the clock chimed two o'clock, I had enough. I couldn't take it anymore. I knew what I needed to do. And so I threw off my blanket, and I didn't walk upstairs, I ran upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. I sprinted down the hallway and burst through the door of our bedroom - the bedroom which, until last night, I had shared with Robby, my husband - and I saw him lying there, in bed, sound asleep, and I couldn't stop myself. It was as if my body was moving of its own accord, like it had gotten a mind of its own.

"Robby?" I said, as I lay myself down next to him, moving the blanket aside to get under it like he was - all from an insatiable need to get closer to him. "Robby?"

He started to stir.

"Robby?" I said again, even more frantically.

He seemed to finally be coming to his senses. He started to turn his body toward me, obviously confused in his sleepy state.

"Erica?" I heard him say.

"Robby."

By now, he had turned himself completely over, and he had opened his eyes, and his eyes met mine.

"Robby, I'm sorry."

There were a few seconds of silence as Robby just looked at me.

"I'm so sorry," I said, as tears started to stream down my cheeks. There I was, laying on my side, clad in nothing but my blank tank top and panties, my body barely covered by the blanket I had tried to wiggle my way into. And there was Robby, fully covered, as if his body was shut off from me, inaccessible forever now because of my earlier actions.

I hadn't planned any of this out. I didn't know this was going to happen. I didn't know what I was going to say. I didn't know what I could or should say. All I could say at first was, "I'm so sorry," and then I burst into tears. There was no holding it back. I just cried and cried for several seconds until I finally found my voice again.

"I take it all back," I said amidst my sobbing. "I didn't mean any of it." I was crazed - absolutely overcome by emotion. I could barely say three or four words at a time, such was the state I was in. "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't know what I was doing."

At that point, I realized I needed to elaborate. I needed to make it clear to him. I needed to tell him what I had decided.

"Tomorrow, Robby," I wailed, gasping for breath. "Tomorrow, we'll... get them back. We'll go to the attorney and get the documents back."

Meanwhile, Robby was just looking at me, in a way I couldn't interpret. He probably thought I was crazy. But I didn't care. I just continued lying there next to him, absolutely hysterical.

"I'm sorry," I shrieked. "I was wrong. So, so wrong.... So, so stupid."

And the words just continued to flow amidst my anguished sobbing.

"It was a mistake," I eventually managed to spit out. And: "I didn't know what I was doing." "I love you so much." "I just want to pretend like this didn't happen." "I don't want to lose you."

At some point during this, I heard Robby's voice.

"Erica."

But I wasn't done. He had to know. He had to really know. "I just want things... to go back to the way they were."

And then I heard his voice again.

"Erica, it's okay."

"Please forgive me," I started frantically begging. "Please forgive me. I'm so sorry, Robby. I'm so sorry."

This went on for a little while more before he eventually threw off his blanket and maneuvered his body toward me and pulled me into his arms, and the relief I felt was indescribable, and I clung to him like I have never clung to another person before, and that only made me cry even harder because of what it meant to me and for what I knew I had done to him - the extent of my betrayal. That's what I did, after all - I betrayed him. I betrayed him by not trusting him, by not confiding in him, by assuming the worst about him and hiding all this from him. I betrayed him, when he had treated me so well, when I loved him so much, when none of this was his fault.

He held me tight for a while as I continued to cry, not saying anything - there was nothing left for me to say, I suppose. He was just holding me, comforting me, running his hand through my hair, seeming to understand the pain and regret and sorrow I was feeling, and honestly wanting to make me feel better, which I knew I didn't deserve. He kept telling me over and over that it's okay, that it was going to be okay. It became like a mantra he just kept repeating again and again and again, and at some point he started kissing my forehead, and then my cheek. And then I'm not sure who kissed whose lips first - whether it was him or me - but that was all it took. It was like our mouths were magnets that were irresistibly drawn to one another.

And just like that, we were making out in bed, our arms and legs tangled up with one another, utterly lost in the familiar comfort and blissful ecstasy of each other's bodies. I don't think we've ever kissed each other so hard - we were barely coming up for breath, like it was for the very last time. Early on, I ran my one hand through his hair and kept it there against the back of his head, as if I could hold him like that and keep him from leaving, to keep his mouth on mine, to keep this moment from ending.

There was no stopping it at this point. I could feel it. And so could he. I was sure of that. My hand eventually ventured down Robby's arm, feeling the firm curvature of his bicep and his thick, hairy forearms and then briefly interlocking with his fingers, which I started to caress with my own. After a few seconds, my hand crossed to his hip, and then traveled along the waistband of his briefs between our bodies before settling on the bulge of his already fully rigid arousal. I had intended to make him ready for me, but he already was.

This was all a bit of a blur, but I remember pushing down Robby's briefs around the same time he was pushing down my panties as we continued to make out frantically in each other's arms, and before our underwear was fully past our feet, he was already inside of me, filling my body up with his own. He was naked now, while I still had the tank top on. I remember wanting to take it off, wanting it desperately - wanting all my skin to be in contact with his and to feel the soft mounds of my naked breasts pressed against his manly chest - but there was no time for that.

Our mouths never broke away from each other, not for a single second. He made love to me blissfully slowly, our bodies fully pressed up against each other, on our sides, facing one another. My leg was wrapped over his hip and our arms were around each other, holding the other tightly. I remember digging my fingers into the firmness of his muscular body so intensely that I was worrying I was hurting him, but it felt like I would lose him if I let go. We were kissing through it all, kissing as he thrust into me, kissing as I grinded myself against him, kissing as I felt him cum inside of me, absolutely relishing the act of receiving his love, not to mention his satisfied groaning that was stifled by my mouth. And we continued kissing even after that point, when he continued thrusting into me with his empty but temporarily still-hardened penis, and it was just enough to bring me to my own orgasm, and my own moans were stifled by his lips and tongue. And then we were still kissing, even as I felt his cock finally begin to relax and deflate inside of me.

I lay with him afterwards, using his chest as a pillow, whispering to him over and over that I was sorry, and that I didn't mean it, and that I love him so much. And he kept whispering back that it's okay, that it's going to be okay. And then, at last, I was overtaken by the wonderful ignorance of sleep, and I was able to forget the damage I had done for a time.

It was late morning when I woke up. I could tell that by the sunlight that was shining through the window, since Robby must have forgotten to draw the curtains last night. The only thing interrupting the quiet of the house was the peaceful sound of birds chirping outside and the familiar hum of the central air system.

For a moment, it felt like just any other day. Judging by how late it was and the fact that I hadn't been awakened by an alarm and this vague notion that Robby had gone to work yesterday, I figured it must be Saturday. I'd have Robby all to myself for the next two days. We'd stay in bed for a while and talk and laugh and then we'd make love or else I'd pleasure him with my mouth or hand, which would feel so, so good. Then we'd enjoy our coffee and a quiet breakfast in the kitchen while I read and Robby checked the news. Then, Robby would go off to tackle whatever projects around the house he intended to complete for the day, and I'd do a little cleaning or a little laundry, whatever I didn't get done over the course of the week, and then I'd spend a while making myself pretty for him. And when he came back inside, shirtless and sweaty from his labor, I'd be waiting for him. And I would giggle and complain as he pulled me against his body, sweaty as he was, but I wouldn't really care, not at all, and he'd know it. Then we'd make love again, maybe in the shower this time, which would mean I'd have to redo my make-up, but it would be more than worth it to feel our soapy skin sliding against each other and to wash each other with just our hands. Afterwards, we'd decide what we wanted to do with ourselves that evening - maybe go out to eat or spend the evening beside the pool, sipping drinks and ordering in. And at night, when we went to bed, I would happily dress up for him, in anything he wanted, and I would relish his appreciation and enjoyment, and I'd do whatever I could to ensure his pleasure, and he would do the same for me. And all the while, I'd know we have another day just like this to look forward to tomorrow, and then I'd fall asleep in his arms.

But it wasn't Saturday. I finally realized that. It was Tuesday. Tuesday. With that reality came all the shock, all the horror, as the memory of what happened last night snuck up on me. It all came back to me like an avalanche, and the crushing weight of my guilt and remorse felt like more than I could bear.

I immediately turned myself over to make sure Robby was still here, hoping beyond hope to find him lying there next to me, yet somehow knowing he wouldn't be.

And I was right. He wasn't. Robby was gone. And there, waiting on his pillow, was a note.

"No!" I shouted, knowing what it meant, knowing what it signified. I didn't want to read it, but I knew I had to. I had to get it over with. I reached for it, unfolded it, and began to read.

"Erica," it began. "I went to the office. And you won't be seeing me again. So this is goodbye."

"No!" I shouted again. Tears welled my eyes, making it hard to read the words.

"I believed everything you said last night. I really did. I believe you are sorry, I believe you wanted to take it all back and for things to go back to normal. And I wanted that, too. But the fact of the matter is, what happened to you was wrong. What the company did to you was wrong. You can't take a person and change them like this without consequences. I believe that you love me, but I also believe you're torn. And you'll always be torn."

"It's not true," I said out loud, even though I knew it was, and tears flooded down my cheeks.

"I told you last night that everything is going to be okay, and I meant it. I know you want to stay, but I don't think that's what's best for you. I think what's best for you is to go back to your old life. So I'm making this decision for you."

"That's not what I want anymore!" I sobbed, as if he was saying these things to me in person and could hear me and I could change his mind. And I meant it. I meant it with every fiber of my being. It wasn't what I wanted anymore. I never really wanted it to begin with. That was finally clear to me. It was just something I thought I was supposed to want, when what I really wanted... was what I already had.

"There's something you don't know that I kept to myself, and I finally need to admit to it. There were a lot of times when I knew I should have asked you how you felt about all this - being changed the way you were, how you were adjusting, whether you ever wanted to go back, that kind of thing. But I didn't. And there's a reason for that. It was because I was afraid of what the answer was going to be. Because I didn't want to lose you. I was selfish."

By then, I was crying full force, and I had to stop momentarily. It was several more seconds before I could continue.

"I'm so glad you came up last night. I really am. I'm glad we were able to leave things like that. I don't have any ill will toward you whatsoever and I never will. I will always love you. And I will always know that you loved me. Once again, everything is going to be okay. I won't let anything bad happen to you. And I will never forget you. You just need to be strong, like I will need to be. Love, Robby."

At that, I threw the note away and buried my face in my pillow and just continued crying, crying, crying. I don't think I've ever cried as hard as I was crying then, and it went on for a very long time. Eventually, I found myself moving to his side of the bed just so I could breathe in the scent he had left behind. I would do this quite a bit in the days to come. I would spend hours there, on his side of the bed, fully awake, just to smell him and feel like he was there with me, until gradually, little by little, the scent of him faded, and was gone.

Author's Note: Check back soon for the epilogue.