Rachel's Dare - Part 2 - Sex Stories

Rachel's Dare - Part 2

Rachel and I continued on down the path back to where our cars waited for us. I estimated we were half way to the timer going off again, and so far we'd walked in perfect silence. If she felt anything like me, then her senses would be firing on all cylinders at the moment. A light breeze had picked up, and was gently wafting through the trees to our right-hand side. The result was that every now and again, a branch creaked, or some leaves rustled on the ground. When it did, we'd both instinctively cast a furtive glance to find the source of the noise, before then quickly exchanging a reassuring glance. I also noticed that she couldn't stop herself from looking back down the path from where we'd just come. I was contemplating teasing her about that, when I realised that I'd subconsciously been doing exactly the same thing. I figured that the time may go quicker if we chatted about something, and it might also drown out the distracting effects of the breeze. "So, art history? Any regrets you didn't take that further?" Rachel shrugged her shoulders. "Honestly? No, not really. I guess 'actuary' doesn't sound all that exciting, but it's rewarding enough." She continued walking along, lost in her own thoughts. After only a brief interlude, she added to her reply. "It's not the fact that I'm an actuary that I regret. It's the fact that I let it make me so damn safe." She looked sideways at me, appearing to try and judge if I'd got her meaning. "So, you're saying that when your job ...

... is to calculate risk, you begin to try and avoid risk in your own life?" I ventured. Satisfied, Rachel turned her attention back on to the path in front of us. In the distance, a lamp post reared out of the ground, and it looked suspiciously like the alarm might go off as we reached it. "Yeah, mostly," she said. "I was a good, upstanding woman of impeccable character. A dedicated professional. A loving mother. A caring wife." I briefly nodded in acknowledgement. That was certainly the Rachel I knew when we'd first met. "And then, one day, out of the blue, your husband of seventeen years tells you he's gay. Not so much into you as you might initially have thought. Has a preference for the dudes instead..." Rachel paused in her delivery, and I struggled to come up with anything to say to fill in the sudden void. Rachel and I had been walking together for several months now, and talked about a lot, but we'd typically steered clear of her break-up. I usually convinced myself that this was the gentlemanly thing to do, and the fact that it was also the easy way out just happened to be a fortuitous coincidence. "It... must have been difficult for you," I finally added. Rachel didn't look like the kind of woman who'd be used to hearing from men that they weren't interested in her. "Oh yeah," Rachel said, again with a light shrug of her shoulders. The moonlight danced off her exposed shoulders, and I had to force myself to focus on what she was saying, rather than on the thin bits of ...