While Matt was sitting in his photo lab, enjoying his fantasies about her, Mary Forrester was in her bedroom, getting ready for bed. When they got home, Ricky gave her a "good night" kiss and went to his bedroom, exhausted from the game. Her husband, Tom, was away on another of the long sales trips he'd been taking more and more of during the last few years.
Mary pulled her sweater over her head and laid it on a chair, then she sat down and slipped her boots off. That done, she shrugged out of her snug jeans. She stood, wearing just a plain white bra and high-cut bikini panties, gazing at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the closet door.
"I guess I don't look too bad for an old married lady," she mused while she ran her hands lightly over her body which really was in good shape. She worked very hard to keep in good shape. She reached behind herself to unhook her bra. The movement raised her full breasts delightfully.
Mary took the bra off and examined the breasts she'd exposed. They were large and the tips were covered with large, dark circles, which surrounded equally large nipples. They sagged a bit, but not too much. She hefted one breast, then the other, noting with satisfaction.
"You can barely see the stretch marks on them," she told herself. She'd nursed her son and hadn't ever been sorry she'd done that. She felt that was one of the reasons she and Ricky had always been closer. Next she peeled off the bikinis and examined her belly critically. As on her breasts, there were a few visible stretch marks on her abdomen, but they were faint. Her pubic hair, black and tightly curled, formed a lush triangular cover for her groin.
She slapped one thigh, then the other, noting with satisfaction that the smacks produced little jiggle. Her legs were strong and well-shaped, the result of long walks she took almost daily.
"But..." she thought, "if I look as good as I think I do, why am I here, alone?"
She gave it more thought. Her husband had been taking more and more business trips for the past year and was now to the point where he was gone at least two weeks out of every month. When she commented on how much he was gone, he angrily protested that the trips were an absolutely necessary part of his job.
But even when Tom was home, their relationship was strained. Their love-making, which had once been passionate and frequent, had declined to the point that when they did occasionally have sex, it seemed as if Tom was performing perfunctory act with little passion. Sometimes it seemed to Mary that her husband only made love to her because he felt he had to do his duty, not because he wanted her. She couldn't remember the last time their love-making had been really satisfying.
Mary sighed and opened the bedroom closet. Hanging in it were several nightgowns, a few of them sheer, lacy expensive items she'd gotten when she was first married. The rest were sensible, flannel ones. Those were the ones she'd been wearing lately.
A few years back, she was excited when Tom suggested that they get a king-sized bed. She thought it would give them lots of room to play and make their love-life better. And it seemed to, at first.
But, that initial resurgence of their love-life passed all too quickly and lately the huge bed had turned into a vast, lonely area in which Tom could pull away and hide from her. Most nights, he was so far over on his side and she might as well be in bed alone.