Loving a Married Woman Ch. 01

"That is surprising, but in a good way." Rachel smiled. "Do you publish your book yourself, or do you have a publisher?"

"Myself," I nodded. "I do most of the marketing on my own, though since I've written for some magazines, I have an audience. I still haven't written that classic, though."

Both of us laughed. I asked her what she did, but also what she was passionate about, because for most people, the two were mutually exclusive. Rachel agreed.

"Well, I mainly taught kids' swimming classes. Right now, I'm a stay-at-home mom," she added.

"That's very interesting. "You do seem like a swimmer."

As she took a bite of her sandwich, she asked how I guessed that. Grinning, I told her it was because her muscles were very defined.

"Oh, thanks," she said, blushing. "As you know, I do try to stay in shape."

"And you are very successful. I'm sure you turn a lot of heads, especially when you have on one of your swimsuits," I said. This made her blush deepen.

"No, no, not at all," she said, trying to remain modest. "I told you before, I don't get that much attention."

"Sure you don't." We both laughed. Rachel relaxed more, and locked eyes with me. I wasn't sure what it was about them, but those baby blues could make a man melt.

"What about you? Do you work out often?" The blonde decided to change the subject.

"I do, actually," I said. "I work out a few times a week, actually, although I could stand to do a little more."

She added that we all could. We finished our wraps and drinks, but remained seated and talking, basking in each other's company. Every now and then, whenever the coffeeshop's door opened, Rachel turned to see who was coming in. Even though she was more relaxed than before, I could tell she was still somewhat apprehensive.

I did my best to reassure her no one would know where she was and that she didn't have to worry. Though I couldn't promise anything, the chances of her running into someone she knew were low. With time, she relaxed.

"You know, I never learned to swim," I said.

"Really? Why not?"

I shrugged. "Just never did. It was on my to-do list, but I haven't got around to it quite yet. Which is a shame; my friends say they wish their apartments could have a pool, but I don't even use the one at my complex."

Rachel laughed. "I'll teach you how."

"I'd like that. I'm guessing you're going to wear a sexy swimsuit?"

"Oh my God," Rachel said, rolling her eyes and laughing, "you are so disgusting. Do you think about sex all the time?"

"Well, I'm a healthy, heterosexual man in his early twenties. I think you already know the answer to that question."

That made her laugh even more. "I don't think I've met anyone so ... bold. You're vulgar, but in a good way."

Now I was curious. I asked her what she meant by that. She stroked her hair and pushed it back.

"Maybe it's because you're so polite. Most men aren't both polite and raunchy, and ... I like that," Rachel said. I listened intently. "For one thing, I get the feeling you have a real respect for women, You make comments about my shape, but it's out of genuine interest and appreciation, I think. And you say what's on your mind and lay all your cards on the table. You don't care about what anyone things. I love when a man is unapologetic about what he wants.

"Trust me when I say this: there are lots of men who aren't as honest as you," she added, with a tinge of bitterness.

I nodded. "Yes, it's best to be straightforward to make sure everyone's on the same page and also so no one gets hurt."

Rachel grabbed my hand, shocking me. "Please always stay that way, OK?"

I nodded and said I would. We talked for some time after that. During our conversation, I wanted to ask about her husband, but I decided to save that for later. I had a feeling she didn't want to discuss him right now. Besides, the subject would likely come up later.

As the time for her to pick up her daughter neared, I took her hand and helped her up, then guided her out of the coffeeshop. I told her I wanted to see her again this Friday afternoon at my apartment's pool for my first swimming lesson. I half-jokingly stated I wasn't going to pass up a chance to see her in a swimsuit.

"There you go again." She laughed. We neared her car, then stopped. "I'd love to see you again, but not at your apartment. Not yet, anyway."

I liked that she said "not yet."

"You can come to my gym. We're allowed to bring guests. If we meet at around the same time, we'll pretty much have the place to ourselves. Sound like a plan?"

I said it did. She took out her phone and sent me the address through text message, then told me to bring some swim trunks. I made a mental note to buy some later, then told her I would see her later and that I had a great time.

"I did too," she said.

We embraced in a hug, then I planted a long kiss on her cheek. I heard a small moan escape her and noticed her knees buckling some. When I finished, her breathing was heavy and skin was flushed.

"I'll see you Friday," I said.

"Y-yeah. I'll see you then."

She got in her car. I watched as she started it, then drove off. With that, I went out to purchase a pair of swim trunks, then went back home to work on some stories and articles.

Towards the end of the night, I got a text message from Rachel which said, "Just letting you know I had a good time. Can't wait to see you Friday."

I wrote back, "Same here. See you then."

I sat in front of the TV, unable to believe the date went so well, and that we had a second one coming up in two days.

And she wanted to meet up with me in my apartment.

I could hardly contain myself.

-----

That Friday, I got ready, packed a duffel bag, then gassed up my car and drove to Rachel's gym. Most of the people out in the late morning were other housewives, though there were a few senior citizens out as well. All of them looked happy, though when they looked inside my car, their expressions became more confused, but I didn't encounter any problems.

I marveled at how expensive the houses were. What I wouldn't give to live in a house like that. Maybe one day, I told myself. After I've sold millions of books and written thousands of articles.

I reached Rachel's gym and parked, then noticed her car close to the door. I texted her to let her know I was here, then got a quick reply of "I'm inside. Come in."

Getting my duffel bag, I got out of the car and went to the door. I saw Rachel sitting at a bench near the entrance, wearing a black sweatshirt, her running shoes and a pair of gray shorts with pink stripes on the side. Even dressed casually without makeup on, Rachel was a knockout.

"Hey, Martin," she said, rising from her bench and hugging me as I walked in. "It's great to see you."

"Yeah, I've been looking forward to this," I said. "You're looking beautiful, as you always do."

"Oh, stop," she said, playfully tapping me on the chest. "Let's get inside and go swimming."

She walked up to the front desk and told them she had a guest. The woman who worked the front desk looked at me, then shrugged. Rachel paid some extra money, then gestured for me to follow her. I did so, looking around. A few men and women were exercising on the treadmills and ellipticals, while the weight room was mostly occupied by men.

Rachel led me to the locker rooms to change and said you can get to the pool from there. I told her it wouldn't be long, then went inside. I changed into my swim trunks, then locked up my belongings, then followed the arrows indicating where the pool was, then stepped into the room housing it.

Immediately, I was hit with the smell of chlorine. I smelled it a little bit outside, but here at the source, the scent was much stronger, though not unbearably so. Right now, there wasn't anyone else in the pool.

Just then, Rachel walked in. My eyes widened and mouth dropped some when I saw her.

Her toned, tanned hourglass figure was on full display, covered only by a small, pink top and bottom. I noticed Rachel was on the buxom side, but her previous attire obscured her chest. Now, not only were they pushed up some, but her breasts spilled out of the sides of her bikini top. Try as I might, I couldn't keep my eyes level with hers.

Not only that, but her stomach was extremely flat. If you didn't know it, it was hard to believe this woman was a mother. I contemplated us skipping the swimming lesson and engaging in a different form of physical activity.

Many young men use the term MILF to describe a woman in her thirties or forties who they find sexually desirable. If that term was in the dictionary, I'm sure Rachel's picture would be next to it.

"Eyes up here," she said, pointing to her baby blues.

"Can you blame me?"

She laughed. "No, but we came to swim. Come on."

Rachel led me to the small set of stairs in the pool, then got in the water and told me to get in. I did so, shocked at how cold it was. I shivered a little, but the blonde told me I'd get used to it quickly. Whatever you say, I responded.

Though she was a skilled swimmer, and no doubt a fantastic teacher, I didn't take to swimming easily. Still, Rachel was patient with me, and didn't show any annoyance. She just told me to keep going.

Of course, stealing occasional glances at her made the lessons much more enjoyable. There were a few times she noticed my eyes going downwards, but after she cleared her throat loudly, I refocused, only to look down seconds later.

Later, I got out of the water, wrapped a towel around myself and sat at the edge of pool while she resumed swimming. As I rested, I noticed how graceful she moved underwater. As she swam from one end of the pool to the other, I marveled at her grace. A beautiful appearance and elegant movements ... Rachel was perfect, I thought.

When the blonde finished her swim, she approached the edge of the pool and got out, she covered herself with a towel. As she did so, I steeled myself to ask about seeing her again in a more private setting. I knew she would be hesitant to do so, what with her being married, and I couldn't blame her if she refused, but she agreed to go out with me up to this point. That led to believe the possibility was there.

"Nothing like a good swim," Rachel said, sitting next to me at the pool's edge.

"Yeah," I said. "Too bad I'm not much of a swimmer, though."

"Oh, don't worry about that! You'll get better with time. No one's an expert at anything the first time they try it."

"So we'll be doing this again sometime soon?"

Rachel smiled. "Sure."

That was good. That meant she wanted to see me again.

But before I could say anything, some more people entered the pool. Rachel asked if I wanted to get a smoothie after our swim. I told her I did, and she told me to go shower and change, then she'd take me to the gym's juice bar. We both went into the locker rooms to shower and change, and after that, I grabbed my duffel bag and exited, then met up with Rachel outside. She took me past the workout area and into an area where young people wearing aprons stood behind a counter, making drinks.

Rachel went to the counter and ordered two smoothies with kale, bananas, and assorted berries, then paid. She motioned towards a table in the back of the room, and I followed her towards it. She handed me one of the drinks, then we both sat down. I tasted it, surprised I couldn't taste any kale.

"How is it?" Rachel asked.

"Pretty good," I said after swallowing some. "I can't even taste any kale."

"I thought the same when I first had one. You know, I'm glad you tried that without a fuss. Most people aren't as open-minded as you are. They'd see something like that and wouldn't even give it a chance."

I shrugged.

"Martin, I want to thank you," Rachel said, suddenly. Her tone became more serious.

"Why?"

She sighed. "Well, it's nice to have someone to spend time with. Another adult, that is. I love my daughter, but it's good to speak with another adult."

"What about your friends? Or your husband?" The last sentence came out before I could stop it. I didn't want to bring up her spouse, but curiosity got the better of me for that moment.

The blonde sighed, playing with the straw in her smoothie. I sat on the edge of my seat, eyes locked with hers.

"I have my friends, but I don't think they could really relate to my situation. And as far as my husband, well ... things aren't really as great as they could be. He's working late a lot more now. I hardly see him, and even when he gets home, he's too tired to really spend any time with me."

I listened, nodding. Now that I heard this, I was glad I continued to pursue this woman. Giving Rachel someone to bond with and ease her pains from loneliness was no doubt the right thing to do.

But what was her situation? I thought of pressing the issue, but decided not to right away. She'd tell me later, and something told me now wasn't the right time.

"So, are you free this weekend?" I asked. "We can get some dinner."

Rachel smiled. "That's very sweet, and I do appreciate that, but I don't think I can do this weekend. I'll let you know when I'm free."

I swallowed. "Oh, okay. Well, that's fine, then."

We finished our smoothies, then grabbed our things and left. Outside, she gave me a hug, then a kiss on the cheek and told me she'd call me soon. I said I looked forward to hearing from her, then walked to my car, got in, then waited for her to leave. Once she was out of the parking lot, I drove off.

From the sound of it, Rachel probably didn't want to take things further. I sighed. I really enjoyed spending time with her, and would have enjoyed connecting with her on a physical level, but no such luck.

Perhaps I should be happy I gave her some much-needed attention, I thought as I arrived back home.

-----

Next Thursday, at 6:15, my phone started vibrating. I picked it up, and to my surprise, Rachel was calling. Curious, I answered the phone.

"Hi, Martin," she said. "How are you?"

"Pretty good." I paused, hearing the gloom in her voice. It sounded like she just finished crying. "Is everything all right with you?"

"Everything's fine."

"Really?"

Rachel sighed. "Actually, I do have a problem."

"Oh?" I sat down on my couch. "What's up?"

"Well, my husband's going out of town for a business trip. He's been taking more of those ever since he got promoted a year ago."

Other than leaving her alone, I couldn't see why she'd be upset about that. Getting promoted meant her husband would be bringing in more money. I asked why him leaving would be a problem.

"It's not that he's leaving," Rachel said after a pause. "It's who he's going with."

"Who?"

She took a breath. I put the phone on speaker and sat it on the cushion next to me, staring at the screen.

"He's going with his new secretary," he said.

I started to ask why that was an issue, but I caught on after a second of thinking. That explained why Rachel was feeling so disheartened when I met her. Now her appreciating my attention made sense.

"I found out he's been having sex with her a while back. They had been sleeping together a month after he got promoted." Rachel stopped for a second, then continued. "One day, I checked his work phone, and saw all sorts of text messages from her about what they were doing. I was devastated."

"I see." There was much more I wanted to say, but that was all that seemed to come to my lips at the moment. I continued listening.

"It gets worse. His other woman is younger than me."

My eyes widened. I could understand how Rachel felt. Most women, as they age, tend to become more insecure, and her insecurities were only amplified by the reality of her husband cheating with a younger woman. Not only was that woman getting all of the love Rachel felt entitled to, but it's possible her husband may decide to leave her.

My heart went out to Rachel.

"How could he do that? We've been married for almost eight years and have a daughter together, and he didn't even see a problem with sleeping with a woman he knew for only a month."

I told her I was sorry to hear about her husband's infidelity. She made no acknowledgment of my comment, instead continuing on.

"There have been so many times he's come in late and I've smelled her perfume on him. Or even worse, he's smelled like sex. And all those business trips he's been taking? He's been bringing her along. Sometimes, he wasn't even taking a business trip; he just wanted to sneak off with her for a few days in a hotel downtown. Ever since I found out, I've found it hard to ... be with him, you know? I keep wondering if he's thinking about her while he's with me."

"I don't know what to say."

She sighed again. "Martin, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to burden you with my problems, but over the last few days, I needed someone to talk to. I couldn't tell my friends; they and their husbands work with him, and I don't want to ruin him in their eyes or make him lose his job.

"And I know what you're thinking, but I can't leave him, as much as I want to. I have to stay for my daughter's sake. I don't want to take her father away from her. He is a good dad, regardless of what he's been doing behind closed doors."

"I see" was all I could say.. I had no idea Rachel was dealing with all that. I would have thought a woman like her would have a marriage mirroring her perfection. But to hear her husband had been cheating on her was quite a shock. I expected some form of neglect, but not full-blown adultery.

"I have to ask: what is it about her?" Rachel asked, more to herself than me. Her voice began shaking again. "I don't get it. I've been the perfect wife: I cook, clean, keep myself in shape, but I still couldn't keep him loyal. When I found out, I thought about getting breast implants, hoping that he'd be attracted to me again. I didn't, but maybe I should ..."

I scratched my chin, thinking. Then, I said, "Rachel, you don't need to do that. If your husband cheats on you, that means he has a problem, not you. Hell, most men would kill to have a woman like you."

"Y-you mean that?"

"Absolutely," I said. "I told before, I thought you were one of the sexiest women I've ever seen. To me, you're perfect. I'm sorry your husband can't see that, but I can."

"Thank you. That means a lot," Rachel said, sounding happier.

"Listen, I know you said you wanted some time alone, but I'd like to see you. Why don't you come over? I'll make us dinner. Are you free this weekend at all? I know you have your daughter, so I'll understand if you aren't."

"My daughter's going to be at his parents' house Friday night. They want to see her, and we all think it's good for me to get a night off every so often, so yes, I can see you. But do you plan on doing anything else? Be honest."

After some hesitance, I said I did have other plans. I had been honest with Rachel up to this point, so I saw no reason to stop. Besides, she valued honesty and open communication.

"Naturally. You are a gorgeous woman, and I would love to become intimate with you. I would love for us to have dinner, then after that, we'd talk a little, then we'd head to my bedroom. There, I'd kiss your beautiful lips, then touch and caress every inch of your body, then we'd get under the covers and I'd stare into your beautiful eyes as I ravish you."

"Oh, my. That's very ... poetic," Rachel said, her breathing heavy. "To tell you the truth, I've wanted the same thing, but ..."

"I know. But that doesn't stop me from wanting you." I stopped, then told her my address. "Listen, you don't have to use it, and I'll understand if you don't, but I definitely want you to come over and have dinner with me. If you don't enjoy yourself, you're free to leave at any time. But I have a feeling you'll want to stay."

Her voice shaky and heavy, she asked why I was so sure. Smiling, I continued.