TT130
What was I going to do?
How the hell could I answer that question right then?
I kept remembering things Sophie had said. Big things, little things.
It was simply too much to take in.
I wanted space, peace, quiet. But I also wanted, needed, to ask questions. About details she hadn't included. About things I didn't understand. About... why...
But the questions that came to me first, that I most wanted answers to, were all about the chances of her having a baby. Was it impossible, improbable or just highly unlikely? Could IVF work, as she'd hinted at?
And when I analysed everything, at 5 o'clock the next morning, alone in the kitchen, unable to sleep, I realised why it was that which mattered to me most.
Because it was the future I was most concerned about. Not the past...
And one indisputable part of that future was Victoria's baby.
She came round for lunch on Sunday. Sophie had taken a break from our talk to call her, to tell her that I knew.
Everything...
And to ask her to come round so we could talk. I don't think Sophie was doing that to plan how we were going to handle the situation with the baby once it was born. Because I don't think she knew if there was going to be a 'we'. If she was going to be around for that.
I think she just felt responsible for engineering the whole series of events that had led up to its conception, and wanted to make sure that Victoria and I were OK with each other, and had a way to be parents to our child.
One of the questions Sophie had answered the night before was about what happened when she went to see Victoria, after I'd revealed her pregnancy.
She'd said that she wanted to know if it was planned. If Victoria was using it as a way to take me from her. Victoria had assured her that she wasn't, that it was an accident. Victoria had told her that she did love me, but that she had other plans.
Sophie didn't know what they were.
I did.
As soon as Victoria arrived, and I saw Sophie hug her, and place her hand on her bump, and then saw them laughing together, and remembered the way they had been together in the kitchen that first Sunday morning, I realised that the connection between them had been right in front of my face the whole time.
How Sophie had run to Victoria for advice when Alex wanted her to go with another woman. How Victoria had ended up in Sophie's bedroom one morning. How easily and quickly Sophie had switched from calling her Hannah to calling her Vic. How Victoria knew enough about Sophie to laugh at her discipline in taking her pill. And how Sophie knew that Victoria had messed up the way she took her pill.
Little hints, little clues, little slips. And I didn't see any of them.
If we couldn't make any plans for the baby that day, at least in terms of how Sophie and I might be involved, we could still agree how I would be.
Up to that point Victoria had shielded me from her parents, refusing to answer questions about the baby's father. And even then she was still willing to say that it was the result of a d*unken one night stand.
But I knew I had to front up to her parents. As a married man who'd had an affair with their daughter, whose wife now knew, and who was going to be involved in his child's life. They didn't need the extra details.
So we agreed that Victoria would arrange that. I would accept whatever pain was coming my way, but at least then we could be open about me being the father.
It turned out to be as uncomfortable as I expected, as I deserved. But once it was done it made things easier.
Victoria became a more frequent visitor to our house, as a friend, of both of us, not as my Sub, which she'd never really been anyway.
And I have to admit that I admired the way Sophie dealt with seeing her, as painful as it must have been for her.
In fact I had to admire everything Sophie did to try and make things right, to rebuild our relationship and give us some kind of shot at a future.
She suggested we reinstate date night, and Sacred Sunday. To try and get ourselves thinking like a couple again, and to overcome the distance and atrophy of the past few months.
It was hard though, and it felt a little forced at first. Almost like we were strangers on a blind date. And there was always something unspoken between us.
And, of course, it was sex. After all, it was sex that got us into this mess.
Sex, and an inability to talk about what we wanted with each other.
Neither of us had dared to discuss it for weeks after Sophie's revelations. It felt like to do so would be to dredge everything back up.
But I knew that we couldn't hide from it forever. As Sophie must have. Because no matter how hard we worked at the other aspects of our relationship, until we addressed this issue we were simply existing in the outer reaches of a marriage, with a black hole at its core.
So one Sunday night, after a nice afternoon walking on the beach, I just said it. "What are we doing, Soph?" I asked her.
And so we talked, as we should have done all along. And we were honest with each other. As we should have been all along.
I asked her what she wanted. And having told me what she had done, she was now able to tell me, openly, that she needed to have sex with other people. And that possibly did now include women as well as men.
And she said that she didn't need a Dom any longer, because she didn't feel guilty about what she wanted. Not now she had told me. She didn't need someone to give her permission any more.
And I was able to tell her that the thought of her with others turned me on, but the thought of her being another man's Sub didn't. That was too much.
I told her about Peter and Fiona, and said that I would like us to be like that.
And she said that she liked that idea too. But she said that she would need more. That every so often she would crave discipline. And we both knew that I couldn't do that for her.
But I said that maybe we could find someone to take care of that. Not someone to be her Dom, or own her, or anything like that. Just someone who she could meet, by herself, to get what she needed.
And it seems strange writing it down in black and white like that. But it's what she needed. And therefore what I needed to give her if I wanted to stay with her.
Which I knew I did.
Because, as Sophie had known all along, I loved her.
And then we looked at each other and realised that what we both wanted was the same thing, and that we were both willing to give each other that.
And then Sophie smiled.
And then she laughed. And I realised that I couldn't remember when I had heard that last.
And I laughed with her. And realised that I couldn't remember the last time I'd done that either.
And then she took me to bed. And I reclaimed my wife. And just like Fiona had told me, I pressed the reset button.
And I'm not saying that it was all wine and roses after that. There were still odd, awkward moments now and then, when one or the other of us became aware that we were having to work at things because of what had happened before.
But it was easier. And it was better.
And it helped that we had our holiday coming up. It was a chance to escape normal life, and everything else, and really just enjoy being together. Which we did, although we were glad that we had booked for twelve days, because Sophie spent three days of the first week ill in bed with suspected food poisoning.
But even that helped to bring us closer together again, because she could see how worried I was about her, and how attentive I was. And I could see how much I hated anything happening to her.
When we got home things were so much better that Sophie even suggested that Victoria move in with us until the baby was born, and for a few months afterwards, to give us all a chance to bond with the baby. Who I knew by then was going to be my daughter.
And that brings me to where I am today. To where we all are today.
Alex, I'm sure, is fine, enjoying his connections and probably training another Sub as I write.
Sophie had met him for lunch on the Tuesday after the gangbang, and had told him that her time with him was over. She said he had tried to persuade her that he still had much to teach her. But she'd said that she was fine thank you. And that was that.
As Victoria had said, Sophie was much stronger than she was.
And Sophie had something to lose that Victoria didn't.
Victoria herself is in the spare room, across the landing from me. She's due in a couple of weeks and looks amazingly sexy, no matter how much she protests that she doesn't.
But don't worry, I'm not going near her. Not like that anyway.
She's completed her qualification and is going to look for a new job when the baby is old enough. That's because she is moving away, to South Wales, once Vanessa has settled into her new job and got their house ready for them.
Vanessa left her husband but decided that she couldn't openly have a relationship with Victoria here, because so many people, not least her colleagues, would know that Victoria used to be her pupil, and would put two and two together.
So she applied for a job in a high school in Cardiff, and now my daughter will be raised by her mums down there.
But I will see her whenever I can, and will make the most of the precious few months I will have with her before they move.
And as for Sophie...
We had plans to set up a couple profile on that website, to play as a couple, and mainly to arrange to meet people in clubs.
But that plan never came to fruition.
Instead, as I write this in bed, alone, Sophie isn't here.
She's in the bathroom, throwing up again. She gets her morning sickness in the evening.
It turned out that the bout of food poisoning she had on holiday did more than bring us closer together, it also messed up Sophie's pill, to the extent that she didn't bother to take it for the rest of the holiday.
Her gynaecologist still isn't sure how she got pregnant. She said it was a million to one chance. But aren't those the ones that come off? Whatever, I'm not questioning it. I'm just grateful and Sophie is obviously happier than you can imagine.
As for the future... Who knows... I think we'll be OK.
But over the past few months, since that fateful morning I first dropped Sophie off at the station, I've learned not to take things for granted. And that it's important that we continue to talk, and that we are honest with each other. Always.
And I've also learned that it's possible to love someone so much that you would do anything for them, forgive them anything.
The only thing I'm not quite sure of yet, is whether a love like that is a blessing... or a curse...
THE END
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Each chapter took me between 2 - 3 hours to write, including the proof reading and editing, so it was necessary to have some motivation to continue.
And you have certainly provided that.
And thank you for giving your time too. To read the thing. I know how long it has taken you to read 130 chapters. So that effort, over all this time, is greatly appreciated.
Stay safe everyone and take care.
S.
Oh, and one more thing. If you are worried about withdrawal symptoms from 'Taking Sophie', and you haven't yet read my other story 'Bringing my wife into the lifestyle', then you can find the link to the final part of that here, with a link to the other parts in the first post. Just don't read the final chapter first:
https://m.fabswingers.com/forum/stories/893749
And if you are wondering what this is, and want to read 'Taking Sophie' from the start, here is the complete list of links:
Pt 1
https://m.fabswingers.com/forum/stories/958305
Pt 2
https://m.fabswingers.com/forum/stories/964213
Pt 3
https://m.fabswingers.com/forum/stories/969516
Pt 4
https://m.fabswingers.com/forum/stories/971955
Pt 5
https://m.fabswingers.com/forum/stories/974087
Pt 6
https://m.fabswingers.com/forum/stories/976369
Pt 7
https://m.fabswingers.com/forum/stories/978866
Pt 8
https://m.fabswingers.com/forum/stories/981773
Pt 9
https://m.fabswingers.com/forum/stories/984294
Pt 10
https://m.fabswingers.com/forum/stories/986446
Pt 11
https://m.fabswingers.com/forum/stories/988686
Pt 12
https://m.fabswingers.com/forum/stories/991714
Pt 13
https://m.fabswingers.com/forum/stories/995113
Pt 14
https://m.fabswingers.com/forum/stories/998875
Pt 15
https://m.fabswingers.com/forum/stories/1002441
Pt 16
https://m.fabswingers.com/forum/stories/1005225
Excellent writing op 