I know my husband looks good; I wouldn't have married him otherwise. In some ways I was accustomed to women flirting with him, though I never fully accepted it. Arguing over it was pointless; he didn't see harmless flirting as a problem, and I was budging off my point that married people shouldn't flirt. If I caught it happening, I stopped saying anything to him. Instead I would find the woman who was doing it, and stare her down until she understood that he was my man, period.
I'd tell him all the time about the signals women send -- like touching him when they talked, or "unknowingly" leaning over a little too far with a top on that wasn't meant to contain. He didn't believe fat meant greasy; he didn't believe that there were women who just wanted to see how far they could get with him; and he didn't believe that there were women who would stop at nothing to get him, if they sensed he was interested. In his mind, once a woman knew he was married, she would respect that commitment he made. They may flirt, but they wouldn't cross that line. I was amazed that such a successful man could be so naive. Being just in his 30s, he had started a retail business, and grew it to three stores around the city. How in the world did he do that, and have no clue as to the minds of women?
Or maybe I was the clueless one? Maybe he did know very well what those women were up to, but played like he didn't to keep me from suspecting there was more than flirting going on. I was tempted to setup a demonstration to prove my point. The problem was no woman I trusted enough to bring in on my idea. Without that, I'll just have to wait for a situation to naturally develop that would open his eyes, or bust him in his tracks.
We moved to Arlington Heights a year ago. Our next door neighbor was a single mother, with a teenage daughter. Seventeen year old daughter, to be exact. She turned 18 sometime over the Christmas break. She left for college at the end of the summer, so my radar was on the mother, given the way she bounced over to welcome us. She invited us over to swim in her pool, she told us about the billiard table her ex-husband left in the basement, and she commented that it would be nice to have a man on the grill at her next cookout.
"Provided you let me borrow him," she said with a phony smile I coulda knocked off her face.
And not to mention the sundress she wore, with half her thigh and almost all of her B-cup chest showing. The material itself didn't hide much; her nipples were clearly visible when erect, and you could see the outline of her name and address when light caught her right. I knew what she was about 10 minutes after meeting her.
I saw Jeff stealing glances at her now and then as he brought in boxes with the movers. They were looking at her too. I tried not to get angry when he looked, and I never caught him leering. It didn't do much for my ego to know that other women could grab his attention like that, but I didn't need to let myself get insecure over it. After all the boxes were in the house and the movers left, I changed from the bra and t-shirt I had on into a cotton tank top -- in part because I was hot, but also to see if I could get his attention. I kept unpacking like normal, until he noticed.
"Hey, what's the tank top for?"
"It's for getting work done," I blew him off.
"Yeah, right," he came over and hugged me from behind.
"Get off," I laughed, "we got work to do."
"Then you shouldn't have put this tank on," his fingertips touched my nipples. "See, you ain't thinking of work either."
Feeling appreciated, and aroused, I turned around and pulled his face to mine for a kiss. "We have to unpack.
"Then why'd you change?"
"I was getting hot," I backed away.
"Oh, so it had nothing to do with what Vivien had on?"
I shook my head, "I told you last time I wasn't telling you no more. If you didn't know she was spreading it out for you, then I can't help you."
"Okay," he laughed. "Okay."
I went back to unpacking, "Okay, what? Like you didn't see her high beams on!"
"Yup, I sure did!"
"And you liked it!" I looked at him over my shoulder.
"I like nipples; so what?" He grabbed me from behind again, "I like seeing yours more because I get to play with them.
I pushed back to get him off me when he gave them a little twist, "All right now! We got a lot left to do before Monday."
"Then you shouldn't have distracted me," he reached around and ripped the tank open, and took a big squeeze of my 36Cs before I could protest.
The move knocked me a little off balance, and I put my hands on the counter to steady myself, "Ohhh damn."
"Yeah, this is why you put on that tank," he leaned over and kissed my neck as he kept squeezing firmly but slowly.
I felt his erection on my ass, "No its not."
"Right," he chuckled. He reached around to unfasten and pull down my shorts and panties. When I kicked them off my feet, he turned me around and drove his tongue into my mouth. His hands roamed over my back and hips, squeezing my ass now and then.
This was the going beyond the reaction I wanted, but I was all for it. I opened and pushed down his shorts. I rubbed his dick through his boxers for a moment, then pushed them down too. When they hit the floor, he lifted me up on to the marble counter. It was cold, but I didn't care. I pulled a drawer out to put my foot on, and rubbed myself as I watched him free himself from his shorts, boxers, and shirt -- oh yeah, my body was ready for this. He stepped to me, and went in on two thrusts. I love that feeling of being penetrated, and almost wished he'd pull out and do it again. But to make sure he didn't pull out, I grabbed two handfuls of his ass as his mouth went back to my neck.
After a while, he pushed me back, so he could palm my bouncing tits. I locked my ankles around his waist. This new angle felt even better, and my louder moans told him so. He began groaning right along with me, and soon we released together. I wrapped my arms around his neck and told him I loved him as we kissed through the waves. He held me to him and told me the same.
He backed up and sat in a chair, kinda angled toward me. He was still mostly erect, and coated with our juices. I rested my elbows on the counter, and caught my breath -- until I felt his deposit start to withdraw. Since my tank was already ruined, I took it off, and used it as a towel between my legs. He laughed at me for trying to be so neat after such a messy act.
"Hey, our food will eventually be on this counter!"
"My food already was!"
"Shut up!" I was laughing with him, until I caught something out of the corner of my eye and nearly jumped out of my skin. It was our neighbor's daughter standing at our patio door with something in her hands. She looked like she was in a trance, until I screamed. She shot from the porch; I shot from the kitchen. My clueless husband sat there, asking , "What?"
"You didn't see her standing there?" I asked halfway up the stairs.
He followed me, "My eyes were closed."
I made it to our bedroom, and jumped over boxes until I got to the bathroom, "Curtains are going up on every window we have right now!"
"What do you think she saw?"
"EVERY THING, the way you were sprawled out! And it's not funny!" I suppressed my laugh. "She saw us; you all sprawled out on the chair, and me laid up on the counter! She'll tell her mother, and she'll think we are freaks!"
"Maybe she'll want to join us!"
I couldn't help letting out my laugh when he wouldn't stop, "Uh huh, see?!"
"Look, we're in our house, not out on the sidewalk," he stopped laughing. "It's our business what we do in here. If she thinks we're freaks, tell her to keep her peeping Tomisita daughter off our patio!"
I came out the bathroom, "You just like people looking at you, freakin' exhibitionist!"
"I could give a class," he kissed my cheek on his way into the bathroom.
I kept expecting the phone to ring as I changed. I went downstairs, and back into the kitchen. I looked out the patio door, and saw a dropped cake where her daughter stood. "Great! Not only do I have to clean that up, but how am I going to thank her without bringing up what Rihanna saw?"
______
In the months we had been there since, Vivien never said a word. When I thanked her for the cake, she just said, "Glad you liked it." I didn't know if that's because Rihanna didn't tell her or if she didn't know how to talk about it either. What would she say? "So, my daughter saw you having sex in your kitchen..." How awkward that be? She didn't act any different, so neither did I. She was overly friendly toward Jeff, but she was like that from the start. When she was walking her dog when he pulled up, I'd watch from the window as she laughed too hard at whatever he said, bent over to get something off the ground, or send out some other signal that he wasn't picking up on -- or at least acting like he wasn't picking up on.
Vivien threw a cookout for Rihanna when she came home on her summer break. She did ask if Jeff could work the grill, and she asked if I could help her in the kitchen. We were the only three adults at the party. Everyone else there was Rihanna's age. You could certainly tell it was summer time; guys in tanks or shirtless, and girls in halter or bikini tops. Vivien commented on a few of the guys while we were getting trays together -- wondering how much they could lift, and nudging me as she laughed. A long as her attention was off of Jeff, she could fantasize all she wanted to.
