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The Open House
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Tom regretted the choice to sign up for a marathon. He didn't hate running, but he did hate being slower than his wife, Alicia. He'd thought he was in good shape, hitting the gym four times a week and maintaining a six-pack, defined pecs, and a solid rear, but his cardiovascular system was crap compared to his long-legged spouse. Still, he thought he could keep up.
It wasn't even Tom's intention to run the marathon. Alicia, a former collegiate runner, suggested they do it to bond and get back in form after spending several years binging every true-crime series they could get their hands on. It was her insecurities that motivated the endeavor. She felt out of shape, so therefore Tom was out of shape. Not that she said it, but that was how it felt to him. He relented to her plan, but all he had to do was look in the mirror to convince himself he didn't need to. Although, he did not want to miss seeing his wife's ass in tight leggings every morning.
Tom's confidence was thrashed on the first run when he found out he had almost zero endurance. Sure, his chest and abs looked fantastic but his cardiovascular system was non-existent, and his dreams of using Alicia's ass as motivation quickly went out the window, as he couldn't stay close enough to appreciate the view, with her easily disappearing down the road. After the first run, she would take pity on him and start slow, keeping pace with him, but eventually, she would get bored and up the tempo, leaving him in her dust. This pattern repeated day after day.
Despite missing out on the view, Tom didn't mind that she was faster, as he began to find a meditative state in running alone, but he resented the expectation that he should run as far as her. She claimed the pace didn't matter and that only the miles counted for training, but he would have preferred to finish a shorter run in the same time than come staggering home half an hour after she'd finished----just in time to catch her stepping out of the shower. A reminder that they weren't going to have sex.
Morning shower sex was their go-to start to the day. Or it had been until the marathon training began. Now, Tom was lucky to catch a peek of his wife's naked body as she dried off, leaving him just horny enough to finish himself off in the shower as she ate a rushed breakfast on her way out the door. He was okay with this for a while, but they were a month into the training, and the race was still over sixteen weeks away.
"How were the last five miles?" Alicia asked as she dried her hair, water dripping down her naked body as she stared in the mirror. One drop, clinging to her left nipple, caught Tom's attention before she wiped it away. Her question was the only acknowledgment of Tom's presence.
"Brutal. Was that hill in the last mile really needed? It almost killed me. Maybe I should start planning my own routes?"
"You'll be thanking me on race day. There is quite the kicker around mile twenty-two. It will end your day if you don't train for it. I mean, you can do whatever you want, but if you want to finish strong, I'd listen to me if I were you," Alicia said with a smile, hoping Tom's egotism wasn't getting the better of him.
"I think I'll be walking by that point anyway, but I appreciate your optimism," Tom said, pulling his sweat-soaked shirt over his head and using it to wipe away the excess perspiration on his face. "By the way, did you see the Jensens are selling their house?"
"Yeah. I can't believe it, but I'm happy to see them go. They've always been such a pain in the ass. Hopefully, whoever's new won't have an issue with us like they did."
"I mean, you
can
be pretty loud," Tom said with a smile as he pulled off his shorts and stepped into the steaming shower, letting the water hit his face before he stepped back and let it run down his chest.
"Excuse me for having a husband that can make me cum. It's not like they had kids that could hear. You'd think that two professed liberals would be more open to people enjoying their sexuality. I can only imagine what it was like in their bedroom. Jen probably just lays on her back while Jack pumps away for two minutes before rolling off. I doubt she's ever been satisfied in her life."
Tom laughed as he lathered his body, getting all the sticky spots first, especially under his balls----which ached for release as he watched his naked wife----before moving on to his hair, which only required a cursory splash of shampoo due to its short length. He turned off the water before she finished with the mirror.
"She never seemed like she was the problem to me," Tom said as Alicia finished futzing with her hair, her breasts jiggling as she roughly scratched at her scalp, trying to get product to her roots. Her breasts were the one part of her body that didn't match her running prowess and the feature that Jack most often ogled. "Jack was always the one that seemed to have a stick up his ass."
"You're right, but she stuck by his side all these years and never told him to shut up when he pointed out, not so subtly, might I add, that I was a bit too loud for the neighborhood."
"He's certainly a dick. Do you think she cheats on him?"
"Why? Do you have a thing for her? Are you bored with me and want to spice things up with the most vanilla woman in town?" Alicia teased, giving Tom a wink and wiggle of her ass.