The next morning, I woke up and got moving before Carl and Becca. As I walked into the kitchen, I saw her nightgown and wrap sitting where she'd left them when the two of us had gone to my room, which meant she had gone to her bedroom, if not her bed, with her husband, nude, my seed seeping from between her legs. I took a deep breath and wondered quietly to myself if Carl would be as accepting of what had taken place as he had professed he would.
I walked back to my room to grab my briefcase, and when I walked back into the kitchen, Carl was standing there in his boxers, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
"You two had quite a night," he said, looking up at me and smiling.
"Yeah, we did," I admitted, grinning sheepishly. How do you tell one of your best friends that sex with his wife was fantastic?
"Good," he said. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourselves."
"You sure you're still okay with it?" I asked him. "I don't want it to ruin things between you and me."
He waved a hand, dismissing the notion as he sipped his coffee. "I told you, it's fine. Don't worry about it. Look, I gotta get ready for work, too. We'll talk tonight."
I began digging in the refrigerator as he went to shower and get dressed. As I closed the refrigerator and turned around, I saw Becca standing there, covering herself with her wrap from the night before.
"Good morning," I said, smiling at her.
"Good morning," she replied. She stood there, holding her wrap closed with one hand and wrapping her other arm around her.
"Did you sleep well?" I asked. I'd hoped it wouldn't be awkward like this.
"Out like a light the moment my head hit the pillow," she said, "and I don't think I moved."
"Good," I said. "I passed out, too... best night's sleep I've had in weeks."
"Really?" she asked. Her arms folded in front of her as she relaxed a little.
"Yeah," I nodded. I decided to bite the bullet and ask the obvious question. "Are we," I swept a hand to indicate her and myself, "are we good? Are we going to be okay? Because this feels really awkward right now..."
"Yeah," she admitted. "It's awkward, I mean." She paused, looking at me and thinking. "Carl knows, obviously, and he seems okay, so... I guess it's just you and me. I just don't want to screw things up here. You know what I mean?"
I nodded.
"But if everyone's still okay with it, we're fine," she said.
"Good," I said, hoping things were, in fact, fine. "I gotta go before traffic gets any worse. I'll see you tonight."
"Okay," she said, stepping towards me. "Don't I get a kiss goodbye?"
I locked eyes with her as she raised an eyebrow and looked at me expectantly. I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her goodbye for the day as she released her hold on the wrap, her hands covering mine, both of us holding the kiss longer than I had originally intended. The kiss wasn't one of passion, but of tender, genuine affection. As we concluded the kiss, I looked down and saw that her wrap had fallen open. I smiled at her as I stepped back from her.
"I like the view," I told her, picking up my briefcase and heading for the door.
"Oh you do, do you? How about this?" she asked, and I turned around in time to see her throw the robe open, and then close it shut quickly as she took off down the hall to take her own shower.
It turned out to be one of the days where I had been first to leave, and I was the last to come home. I got out of my truck, and the aroma of a grill burning caught my nose's attention.
I walked into the house, and immediately realized Carl must be grilling dinner, because the kitchen was quiet, and I couldn't smell anything in the house that could be identified as dinner. I looked into the kitchen on the way to my room, and saw Becca standing next to the sink making a salad. I stopped and watched her for a minute. Her hair was pulled back, showing her delightfully cute ears. She was wearing blue slacks that fit her perfectly, just snug enough to provide a visually appealing outline of her buttocks.
I think she must have sensed me standing there, because she glanced over at me, smiling as she continued to tear lettuce into a bowl.
"Are you going to just stand there and stare at my ass?"
"I'm sorry," I said, walking into the kitchen. "I didn't mean to stare... I mean I wasn't..."
"Right," she said, turning to face me. "Don't even try that crap with me. You were staring at my ass."
"You have a very nice looking ass," I told her as I walked into the kitchen.
"Don't change the subject," she said.
"I wasn't changing the subject... we were still talking about your ass," I said, stepping closer to her and kissing her.
She returned my kiss, her hands still resting on the counter. I couldn't tell if she was really upset or not.