Brittany

Brittany lounged by the pool and lazily played with the triangle top of her white bikini. The matching bottoms were a thong style with gold chains over her hips, but the metal chain was starting to heat from the sun and she was quickly regretting her decision to wear them. The suit was admittedly more appropriate for a Vegas pool party and a little overkill for a day spent by the pool in her backyard, but these days she didn't have much else going on. Frankly, she was bored. Her days had become a blur of the same routine: send the kids to school, run to her morning yoga class, then spend the afternoon by the pool working on her tan until it was time to pick the kids up again. Rinse and repeat.

Brittany had grown up in a traditional household with a family that drilled into her brain exactly what a happy life looked like - get married to a man wealthy enough to support her, have kids, move to the suburbs, and live an easy life of dinner parties and brunches - and she had excelled in achieving it. She met her husband Peter in college, a finance major with promising ambition and the "right" family, and they were engaged as soon as they graduated. Kids soon followed. Now, in her mid-30's, her kids were in school and her only real job was maintaining the trophy wife figure Peter loved to show off. Yet another thing she excelled at. Despite having two kids, her 5'7 frame remained slender with full breasts, blonde hair, and tan skin. She looked straight out of the pages of Playboy.

Brittany knew she should be enjoying herself - she had accomplished everything expected of her and was sitting pretty in the "easy life" phase that was supposedly the key to happiness, but she was starting to suspect she had been lied to. Instead of a happy and fulfilling life, she had become a cliché: the bored, rich housewife. Initially, being a wife and a mother had given Brittany a sense of purpose to her life. Lately though, she was feeling very lost. And that was before she found The Text.

After college, Peter had joined a fortune 500 company and his career took off, providing them with more stability and money, but requiring him to work increasingly late nights. Brittany frowned remembering what her mother had said when she'd complained to her about it.

"Just leave it be darling. That man provides for you and you don't need or want to know anything else about it." - lectured her mother, a woman who could have been the spokesperson for ignorance is bliss.

She'd tried to ignore the nagging feeling in her gut that something wasn't right, but one night after Peter went to bed, she was laying awake and her body started moving as though it was possessed. Suddenly, she was watching herself get out of bed, slip his phone off the bedside table, and pad silently down the hall to their bathroom. She shut the door softly and crouched on the edge of the bathtub, flipping through his text messages. She found it almost immediately.

(Melissa) I've been thinking about you all day

(Peter) Me too. Wear something sexy tomorrow

(Peter) I'll need to see you first thing

(Melissa) Yes sir ;)

Brittany cringed from the obviousness of it. The exchange she knew she would find. And of course it was with his secretary - he could have at least been a little more imaginative with his exploits. She supposed she wasn't the only cliché.

After the initial wave of disgust, Brittany felt glued to the bathtub edge. As much as she hated to admit it, maybe her mother was right and she would have been better off not knowing. Now that she had this information, what did she do? Did she act on it? She put the phone down in her lap and considered. The thought of having to dismantle her family, divorce Peter, and start over was like a punch to the gut. No, she wasn't ready for that. Brittany tip toed back into the bedroom and returned the phone to its place. She climbed carefully back into bed next to Peter and stared at the dark ceiling until the sky started to lighten.

That day she had gone through the motions as though nothing had happened, feeling like a zombie in her own body. And then the next day. And the next. Luckily, or perhaps not surprisingly, Peter seemed oblivious to the change in her behavior.

Now, Brittany stared at the edges of the pool and continued with the argument she'd been having in her head. If she wasn't leaving him then... what? Would she just carry on as before and pretend it hadn't happened? She could confront him with it and demand he stop sleeping around, but would he? She doubted it. Suddenly she felt a new emotion flowing through her body: rage. After so many days of numbness, she welcomed the feeling. She felt rage at her family for pushing her into this boring life, this life that was all wrong for her, and above all, rage with Peter.

Fuck it.

If Peter was going to do what he wanted then so would she. But what did she want? Brittany considered. She wanted out of these bathing suit bottoms with the metal that had become burning hot in the sun.

She looked around. Brittany and Peter's house was in a picture-perfect suburban community full of large, spacious, two-story houses. At least three of the houses had a view into her backyard from the second story, although in the middle of the work day the neighborhood should be pretty empty.

Fuck it.

Brittany hooked a finger under the offending metal chain, tilted her hips up, and slid the bottoms off. She felt a rush of adrenaline and excitement. Wanting more, Brittany reached behind her and casually untied the top of her bikini. Her full boobs sprang out of her top, small nipples pointing toward the sun, surrounded by large areolas. Brittany looked down at her naked body - her fine pubic hair was shaved in a triangle that pointed directly at her pussy. A pussy that was becoming extremely wet. The possibility of being seen and the feeling of doing something wrong was exciting and arousing in a way she hadn't felt before.

Brittany leaned back into her chair. Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw something move in one of the adjacent houses. Her first impulse was to flee, but then she had another thought.

Fuck it.

Brittany arched her back slightly, angling her tits to give the best possible display. She lowered her sunglasses over her eyes and stared covertly at the window. There it was again. The unmistakable form of an adult man standing at the window, his face and eyes directed squarely in her direction. Brittany had seen him around the neighborhood before, he was an average if somewhat forgettable looking guy with a typical suburban dad vibe. They would wave to each other but had never exchanged more than the occasional polite hello. She racked her brain for any details she remembered hearing about him - his name was Phil and he worked from home. His wife, Stacey, was a teacher.

A few minutes passed and Phil didn't move from the window. He was clearly watching her. A jolt of arousal shot through her. Still keeping her face angled down, as though she wasn't watching him too, Brittany reached casually for the bottle of sun screen and began to slowly apply it. She squeezed a generous glob onto her arms and rubbed it in, then worked her way lower. She massaged it into her tits, squeezing them and brushing her nipples. She moved her hands down her stomach and massaged the lotion into her upper thighs, spreading her legs. Phil had a clear view of her pussy at his angle, had he been closer to Brittany he could easily have seen the wetness of her slit. She dragged a finger along the edge of her pussy, feeling its slickness. Her clit was engorged and throbbing. She had never been this turned on before. She subtly pressed a finger on her clit, dying for relief.

She flicked her eyes back up to see Phil still standing in the window, but now he looked different. She squinted slightly - his pants were undone and his arm was pumping up and down, stroking something just below her line of sight, exactly where his cock should be. The expression on his face was of rapt attention, clearly he was enjoying the show.

Brittany sprang from her chair and hurried inside without bothering to put her clothes on. She made a beeline to her bedroom and got the Hitachi vibrator from her bedside table. She leaned back against her pillow, spread her legs, turned on the vibrator and placed it directly on her clit. She came almost instantly, throwing her head back into the pillows and screaming. The intense orgasm ripped through her and her body convulsed. As the waves died down, she moved to put away her vibrator, but she was still turned on. Replaying the events in her head, she gently massaged her clit until a second orgasm built. Spent, Brittany collapsed back on the bed.

She hadn't come this hard in years, certainly never back-to-back. She had no illusions as to why. She wanted more. If a little naked sunbathing turned her on this much, what else had she been missing out on? Brittany contemplated the possibilities. She had an upcoming girls trip - the perfect opportunity to get a little crazy. She flipped open her phone and found the group text.

(Brittany) I AM COUNTING DOWN THE DAYS