When my mother-in-law was diagnosed with cancer, our social life came to a standstill. Many hours were spent in hospitals and spending as much time as possible with her. When my wife's cousin called to invite us over for supper or drinks or both we eagerly accepted. Not knowing them well it was still a welcome break from sickness -- or so we thought.
Julie was the daughter of the family bitch. She was an uncompromising bitter woman who brought guilt and dysfunction to her children. As a result Julie seemed to have lost the spark to enjoy life. Her husband had developed a routine of regularly suggesting that sex was something that he had to beg or barter for with his wife. She ran and worked out at a local spa while he was a golfing addict. He hated his job though it was never really clear exactly what he did. Julie was a teacher in a private boys' school.
As my wife kissed Paul at the door to their home, he commented that "this is the most action I've had since you were here last." Everyone but Julie had a chuckle.
As I stepped toward her, she visibly tensed seemingly at the thought of contact. I decided to simply hand her the wine we had brought and lightly touched her arm in greeting.
The subject of conversation turned quickly to Mom. It was so typical that any comments describing the struggles in the family to come to grips with the seeming death sentence imposed by the diagnosis of pancreatic cancer was left hanging in the air by Julie. Paul made attempts to be encouraging and sympathetic while his wife went from aloof to nearly hostile. She started to parallel our family problems with petty illnesses and complaints that her parents were going through- rides they had had to provide when her parent's vehicle was in the shop. What an inconvenience!
Paul had a new widescreen television that he showed off as we moved into the living room. He left it on and participated less and less in conversation. Julie got up and took the remote out of his hand and turned the volume down to a less intrusive level. As she returned to her chair, he set it back to the previous annoying level.
Her drinks disappeared faster which was fine by us as we matched her glass for glass. Wine turned into rum and coke, then coffee and liqueur and back to rum. Talk turned to reminiscences that I did not share. Julie and the wife's time on the farm growing up and the good times they had had. Not being engaged in this topic I had the chance to look at Julie and Paul as a couple. He was occupied apart from us, eyes glued to the television. She was looking glassy-eyed but talking animatedly with almost no facial expression. She was not unattractive in a sharp-featured way. Undoubtedly her best attributes were her tight body and disproportionately large breasts. She wore a sweater shirt that zipped to her neck and fit snuggly over those luscious globes. There was just the suggestion of nipple through the fabric of the sweater.
Bringing me into the conversation they made a stab at engaging Paul with his favorite two subjects: golf and sex. "Did you golf today, Paul?"
"Yeah, I got in eighteen early so I could get back for Julie's Saturday afternoon nap! The golf was okay," he said accompanying it with a sigh and an accusing look at his wife.
"I was tired okay!"
"I bet you guys have better naps than that, right?"
Before I could reply my wife said, "Only if we don't make it out of the kitchen or off the floor."
"Do tell" Paul encouraged.
"Well sometimes he sort of sneaks up on me when we're cooking together and ...."
"Morning, noon, supper, snacks?" he was clearly into this direction of conversation.
"Yes" answered the wife giving me an appreciative smile.
"What's this about the floor?" Julie inquired.
"Well when he is massaging my neck sometimes his hands wander a little too far forward. And of course, sometime when he turns around to thank me and he's sitting between my legs...."
Now I knew she was getting loaded. This was not the typical kind of disclosure that I had ever heard from her.
Paul and Julie were staring at both of us. "See Paul less golf more cooking and massage!"
"I'll throw away the clubs tomorrow!" We laughed.
Julie and my wife went into the kitchen to fix the next rounds of drinks. Paul had returned to the boob tube. I was getting turned on by the conversation and memory of the kitchen and massage that afternoon. Between noticing Julie's nipples grow and seeing the oversize pull of the zipper rise and fall I knew I had to take matters into my own hands. I got up to go to the bathroom off the kitchen hoping Paul wouldn't look over and see the tent in my pants. I heard snippets of a conversation as I entered the bathroom.
".....the oil for sure. I'm not sure it would get in without it."
"It's that big?"
I was practically coming in my pants as I walked into the bathroom. I was stroking my cock with the image of that damned sweater in my mind's eye when I footsteps passed the door into the living room area. My hand increased its pace and pressure. The door suddenly opened. All I saw was the sweater zipped down to reveal swelling cleavage and a hand with toilet paper. As I stood there with my cock in hand, she set the paper down on the sink saying, "God, I'm so sorry. I didn't know anyone was in here!" she said to my cock as her eyes were riveted. As the door closed behind her, I came. I wiped, flushed and left shutting off the fan and light.
"Are you more comfortable?" she asked, slightly flushed with a trace of a slur as I returned to my drink and seat. "I feel like we're really getting to know each other so much better tonight," she added suggestively. She started to rise with her empty glass in hand. I quickly moved to stand in front of her, took her glass and commanded her to sit. "Oh you're so forceful!" she giggled. Her eyes moved to my crotch.
The conversation had turned to work and her job by the time I had returned. She made an exasperated comment about their inattention saying, "Some days I think I'd have to stand nude at the front covered in post-its before they would pay any attention!" I chuckled but had an instant image of her sitting on the edge of her desk covered with strategically place post-its. I wonder what they would have written on them.....
"I said how are you enjoying your time alone at the lake?" I realized Julie had addressed this to me while I had been composing mental post-its.
"Oh keeping busy physically with some renovation jobs. Next week I'm oiling some boards. I gotta take advantage of being on my lonesome."
"Lucky broads..oops...I mean boards."
"How about you now that school will be ending?"
"It's already over except for awards in a week and of course marking the exams this week. The school is being used for some tournament and we're getting our siding redone this week. I'll end up at the library again I guess."
"You can always come out to keep me company. I'm outside most of the day and Paul can drive out for supper..."
"No he can't!"