My wife and I are both in our thirties and quite comfortable with our way of life. We have three children who are growing rapidly and seem to be average type kids, although they're on the upper side of average where smarts are concerned. (Just boasting, but it's true.) We own our own house and I'm gainfully self-employed. Some careers always do well if you're competent, and being a plumber is one of them.
A while back a youngish couple moved in next door. They are in their early twenties and quite a pleasant pair. They both work and get on well together. The only arguments I've heard them have were about his devotion to sport. He was always off on the weekend afternoons to watch his team play, and Rosie got a little tired of it at times.
In what I suspected was an effort to relieve her boredom of being home alone Rosie took to dropping over on Saturday afternoons to chat with Abby. The pair of them would natter away and Abby would give Rosie some baking tips. I was all in favour of this as I got to eat the results of their endeavours. (After fighting my way past three greedy children, that is.)
One afternoon after Rosie had been and gone Abby looked at me and shook her head in a sorrowful sort of way.
"You know, Andrew, I've always had a sincere admiration for your intelligence. You're sharp and quick to pick things up, able to draw accurate conclusions from limited data."
"Uh, thanks, I guess," I replied, suspicious all the way down to my toes.
"That's why I find it so amazing that you are too dense to see the lures that Rosie is casting in your direction. If she was being anymore blatant she'd be unzipping you and dragging you away by the cock."
That observation left me totally stunned for a few moments. Was she kidding? A quick assessment of the situation suggested to me that she wasn't. She had explained some of Rosie's oddities. Fortunately I had the answer.
"I have been very careful not to notice that little fact, dear," I said airily. "You know my heart beats only for you."
From the smirk she gave me it was plain that she didn't believe me for one instant. She gave me a considering look.
"You know that they say a change is as good as a holiday," she said thoughtfully.
I nodded, slowly and cautiously, not trusting my beloved one little bit.
"Then why don't you try a change and shaft her? It would serve her right for making eyes at someone else's man."
"You have to be kidding. Grab her and drag her away to some secluded place with you apparently not noticing? Not going to happen."
"Who said anything about dragging her away? I think I'd enjoy watching her getting a serve while bent over the kitchen table. It would be an interesting experience."
"Yeah, interesting, right up until one of the kids wanders in and asks what's Daddy doing with Rosie."
"Well, der. Obviously you'd have to wait until the kids were elsewhere. That happens most weekend afternoons, you might remember."
By mutual agreement we dropped the subject, partly because my mouth was now full of hot biscuits. It didn't drop from my memory, however.
The following weekend Rosie came over again. When I wandered into the kitchen Abby and Rosie were next to each other sat the kitchen table, with Abby demonstrating something. I was interested to note that Rosie leaned forward a little more, giving me an interesting view down her top. If she was wearing a bra it sure wasn't much of one. I manfully managed not to notice, continuing through the kitchen and out the back.
Having completed what I'd gone outside for I came wandering back through the kitchen. The girls were still bent over the table working away and I strolled up behind them.
"How's it going," I asked, "and what's it going to be?"
"Blueberry muffins, and move your hand," Abby said, my hand having accidentally started to caress her bottom. I politely removed my hand from her bottom. As Rosie hadn't said anything I let that particular hand continue to stroke her bottom. She didn't let out a single peep, nor did she try to shift away from my hand. Seeing that certain children were home I desisted and ambled off, heading for a computer.
That evening Abby turned to me.
"Well? Your opinion on Rosie?"
"I won't go so far as to say she's coming onto me," I demurred, "but she did do enough to show me that she had a lot of cleavage not covered by a bra. If she was wearing one."
"And that's all?"
"Well, I have to admit that she showed no reactions whatsoever when I fondled her bottom. She just let it happen."
"When did you get a chance to do that?"
"When I patted yours. Two hands, two bottoms, it just seemed fitting that I should pat both of them. You went all prudish and told me to cease and desist, so I did. Abby didn't, so I didn't."
