The sun came up on Saturday morning, setting off the screaming wild parrots that lived in the palm trees of Kate's neighborhood.
Damn flying rats. Pretty rats, but rats. Pigeons didn't make that much noise in the morning.
Another day of beautiful weather to start the weekend in Los Angeles compared to her old home in St Louis. Not that she'd get to enjoy much of the morning heading to her job at the lab for mandated unpaid overtime. 'Cost cutting measures' they said, slashing a dozen long-tenured employees with high salaries, tripling her workload with a mostly meaningless additional title and no more money. If it hadn't been for a steady salary and weak local job market in her field, she would have left already.
Brian's hand predictably slid up her belly under her cotton teddy, easing across her body to cup her breast. The nightgown shifted with him, letting the nipple of the breast closest to him slip out of the smooth cloth, giving him the chance to lower his head down to grab it with his lips and suck it against his teeth. It felt good and she moaned encouragingly, lacing her fingers into his hair, trying to keep him there a bit longer.
She started counting- at three he pulled himself on top of her, adjusted her top and descended on the other nipple. She opened her legs invitingly.
Four, five, six. Back to the first nipple.
Seven, eight, nine. She puckered up for the kiss, groaning her wish that he'd change it up even a little and letting him think it was pure pleasure.
Ten, eleven. He broke the kiss and slid down her body. She tugged up the bottom of her nightgown, opening her legs for him.
...nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two. Huh, he's actually staying down there this time. Maybe... She ground herself against his mouth. Maybe he's remembering how good he used to be at eating pussy.
Thirty-three, thirty-four. There it is, he's stopped. He climbed back up her body, parting her wet nether lips with his hard-on. Half-push into her body, back out, then sinking fully in between her legs. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he started to rut into her.
Forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight. He pulled her legs from around her waist, held them straight up along his body, closing them together to make her tighter around his hard-on. His thrusts got faster and more frantic.
Fifty-nine, sixty, sixty-one. He pulled her legs opened to sink as deep into her as he could. She made the noises of an orgasm that she wasn't close enough to to feel. He shook, clenching his butt as he spilled cum into her.
Sixty-three, sixty-four. A quick kiss on the lips. Left or right? He bent down and kissed her left nipple, then with a groan of exertion, he rolled off of her.
Sixty-eight, sixty-nine. Banal morning conversation then he heads off to the bathroom to enjoy his morning piss. Leaving her there to extract herself from the wet spot and wait her turn for the toilet.
By eighty, she was on the crapper peeing out his cum, he was in the kitchen making coffee. In an hour, she'd be heading to the office for another half-day. Six months of this now.
Another frustrating day in the offering.
Three hours putting out minor fires in the office, answering questions of the weekend skeleton staff who looked to her for leadership and banking problems for Monday when they needed people not in the office making decisions left her feeling as drained and unfulfilled as her daily morning session as Brian's sex object. At least her director had called from his golf brunch to thank her for coming in and catching up on the work the lack of staff had dumped in her lap. He almost sounded sincere this time.
Stopping for lunch on the way home, she poked listlessly at her salad, stabbing sadly at the sliced chicken. Why had she come to this? Home life unfulfilling. She practically lived for work in a stagnating career. Saturday lunch by herself in one of the most populous cities in the country. No real friends outside of work to speak of. She couldn't feel any emptier.
She sighed, trying not to cry.
Bright sunny days topped the list of the few things Kate enjoyed most about living in Southern California. They were about the only time she felt free and whole. Great time for getting out of the lonely, empty house on a lazy Saturday afternoon and going for a long bike ride while her husband lost even more hours hiding inside playing Call of Duty or Fortnite or some other online game where people shot at each other. Honestly, with so many of them now, they all sort of blended together. He'd barely glanced up when she kissed his forehead on her way out the door.
The flip side of the sunny afternoons- the heat. Dry heat that could suck the life right out of you or distract you on a busy street. But she enjoyed the workout, pedaling her new commuter 10-speed along the mostly quiet streets near her neighborhood and getting a fresh lay of the land. When she got home, her legs shaking from the effort, she'd take a nice relaxing shower.
And probably get herself off in there. Again.
She wouldn't call Brian inattentive but, since the move, their sessions became less...fulfilling to the point that she'd started faking orgasms more often than not simply to get sex over with. Then the accident happened and her recovery left her craving more emotional and physical contact than he could provide. Where his drive dulled since getting married and the subsequent move to California, her appetite heightened. The lack of meaningful contact gnawed at her and she couldn't do anything about it without causing a fight.
Riding her bike helped and didn't. Riding got her out of the house and moving. It took a lot to decide to replace her broken twelve-speed and find a new, safer course to ride. For her own piece of mind, she stuck to familiar residential streets with people and small local businesses everywhere. No where where she was out of sight of people for more than a few seconds. The hours escaped behind her while she steadily worked off the extra pounds she'd put on since the accident.
She also found that if she sat juuuusst right, she could grind against the seat and almost bring herself off. But each time she backed off before reaching that edge. Someday she'd keep going and actually climax and probably flip ass over teakettle, having a public 'accident' that would be sooooo worth the risk.
"Watch where ya goin' shuga!" a voice in front of her called out.
Reflexively, she jerked on her breaks and twisted to the right, Away from the street and the wrong way it turned out as she struck the curb hard. Flying over the handlebars, she landed with a heavy thump on a thankfully lush and manicured lawn of freshly cut bluegrass, just missing the concrete sidewalk.
Not again, she screamed internally. Not now! She ran a quick physical and mental assessment- ribs, limbs spine, skull showed nothing broken or bruised but her pride. Kate turned to her bike last. Brian would lose his shit and never let her ride anything but a stationary again if she broke this one.
A woman who could easily stepped out of one of those Frankie Avalon/Annette Funicello beach blanket movies stood over her. From her grass-stained white boat shoes to the gingham kerchief holding up a small artfully piled dark hair, she dressed straight out of the 1950's- tiny butt-hugging jean shorts with a red ruffle of polka dots around the legs holes and a red top knotted in the front under her full breasts barely contained by the minimal fabric.
And no bra Kate noted quickly. Were those rings in her nipples?
The extensive tattoos the woman sported- a body sleeve that started at her knees, covering much of her visible torso and down both of her arms, told Kate she hadn't fallen back in time. She wore several rings in her ears and a red gem stud in her nose. Definitely not something one would generally encounter if they tumbled through a time warp to the 1950s.
It took a minute for Kate to recognize that the woman offered her a white gloved hand to help her up.
"Yew okay hun?" she asked in a buttery voice from somewhere in the deep South. "Tha's quite a tumble yew took there."
Kate took her hand, black fingerless cotton riding gloves in white silk, and climbed to her feet with weak knees. Her heart raced with flashbacks of her last tumble. At least someone had seen this one and was strong enough to haul her to her feet. Standing a few inches taller than the stranger, she had a perfect view of the big black retro sunglasses, the dazzling smile of white teeth behind bright cherry red lipstick...
And the lone bead of sweat rolling down the woman's neck past an inked sailor girl winking over her shoulder at Katie above a banner that read 'C'mon In' before disappearing into her soft cleavage. A sudden twinge between her own legs informed her in no uncertain terms how badly she thirsted to bury her face into this stranger's boobs chasing after that bead of sweat. It had been so long since she'd last...
"Ummmm...yeah," she finally managed to stammer out, licking her lips and shaking her head slightly trying to focus. "I'm okay. I zoned out there for a minute and didn't see you. Are you ok?"
