Claire's Conception - Part 3 - Sex Stories

Claire's Conception - Part 3

... and the kids at breakfast before she took them to school and was alone in the house when it arrived. The journey to the airport was slow and frustrating. An accident on the main roundabout was causing traffic mayhem with cars, taxis and buses backed up all along the motorway and down to the airport itself. I was seriously late by the time I reached the terminal and later still by the time I finally reached the check-in gate. As I approached the desk the pretty girl looked at me sympathetically; my flight was cancelled! So many passengers hadn’t made it to the airport and the air crew were stuck in central London. Cancelled! After taking several very deep breaths, making at least a dozen long distance phone calls and rearranging meetings and factory visits, I found myself highly stressed but with a rearranged trip and an upgraded First Class seat on the Sunday afternoon flight. It took nearly two hours to do the forty-minute journey home by taxi, the entire time spent on the phone. *** “Oh my God! What’s wrong?” Claire exclaimed when she returned home from school with the kids and found me still at home, “You’re supposed to be in Brazil! Are you okay?” I explained what had happened. Claire had of course heard about the accident and was relieved I hadn’t been involved, but it didn’t take her too long to remember the imminent arrival of her young lover and the problems my unexpected presence might create. “He’ll be on his way already,” she was saying in a whisper, “he’s ...

... probably on the underground so I can’t call and cancel.” “Relax,” I insisted, trying to calm her down, “let him come. Just make sure you answer the door and explain what’s happened. He doesn’t know I know about you two, does he?” She shook her head. “No he doesn’t.” “Then he won’t be too nervous. Did you promise him sex?” There was no way of putting it more softly. Claire scowled at me. “Of course not, but…” “Then it’s only a problem if you want to sleep with him after all. You said you weren’t sure.” “That’s right, but…” She was still agitated but calming down a little now. I interrupted her. “Then if it happens, I’ll just have to handle it. You concentrate on handling him, okay?” There was no alternative so an hour later, when Simon walked up the front path with a large sports bag in his hand and a slightly anxious look on his face, he was greeted by my beautiful wife looking simply stunning in tight black leggings and a figure-hugging white maternity top. If anything, Simon had had grown even more handsome and had certainly worked hard on his body, the muscles of which bulged through his expensive polo shirt – a present from Claire he had clearly worn to please her. She met him on the front path as I decoyed the kids upstairs and I could hear an exchange of hurried, anxious voices for some time before the front door opened and he tentatively entered the house. “Simonnnn!” The stunned young man was immediately swamped by our three kids who swarmed down the stairs and hugged him ...