My wife Samantha and I had been looking at properties for a few weeks when we decided to view Number 22. The experience so far had left me unenthusiastic and even Sam was beginning to find the ongoing process a little tedious. We couldn't agree on which place to buy. One of us always had a negative point about the few places we had considered, and so it was with a growing feeling of frustration that we arrived at the next address to meet the agent.
Because it was Saturday afternoon, our usual agent wasn't available since it was her rota for the weekend off. She'd called to apologise, but emphasised that Richard would look after us and assured us that he was more than capable.
'Hmm,' I heard Samantha murmur when we arrived. I assumed the tone of approval as for the house, but she continued with, 'Look at him.'
As the car came to a halt I looked through the windscreen and saw the object of Samantha's enthusiastic appraisal. A tall, athletic black guy was standing in the open doorway and was obviously expecting us. I supposed that this was Richard. He appeared to be in his early twenties, was dressed in a light suit that even I could see complimented his dark skin. His hair was neatly groomed and he looked to be relaxed and confident.
'What do you mean, "Look at him"?' I asked exasperated. 'So he's young, good looking and black... so what?'
'Oh come on, Mark,' Samantha rolled her eyes. 'A girl can look can't she? He's positively gorgeous.'
'For fuck's sake,' I muttered and opened the car door. 'Come on, let's take a look around.' 'Mr and Mrs Webster?' Richard smiled and extended his hand.
'Samantha, please I'm Samantha, call me Sam, and this is my husband, Mark.' Samantha took over the introductions and smiled broadly at the young man.
Good God, she's making a big deal out of this bloke. Look at her, positively drooling over him!
I shook hands with the estate agent and he went straight into his prepared introductory speech. Samantha and I followed Richard throughout the spacious, three storey house and as we looked into the usual rooms I forgot about Samantha's bitch in heat attitude towards the handsome black man. The house really interested me and I could tell that Samantha appeared to like it as well.
'Well,' Richard asked finally, 'what do you think?'
I looked at my wife and she smiled and nodded with approval.
'I think,' I replied slowly. 'I think that we're interested.' I looked at Samantha for confirmation. 'Sam?'
'Mmm, definitely,' she responded. 'I'm definitely interested...' She gave me a sideways look and grinned slyly. 'Interested in the house too,' she added.
Richard laughed albeit a little uncertainly. He was unsure as to how to politely respond to Samantha's inappropriate remark and was flustered.
'Please,' I interjected,' forgive my wife, she's a little... ah... nervous. She makes jokes that probably aren't funny when she's nervous,' I added as an attempt at explanation.
'Ok,' Richard smiled uncertainly. 'Shall we sit in the living room and perhaps go over some possibilities?'
'Oh, the possibilities are endless,' Samantha offered and looked daggers at me.
'Erm, do you think my wife and I could have a moment in private to discuss things?' I asked Richard, who smiled politely and discreetly left the room.
I turned on Samantha abruptly, incensed by the show she was making of us both.
'What the fuck are you doing?' I whispered sharply. 'You're making us look like a pair of fucking idiots. Making suggestive comments like that. Richard's embarrassed... I'm fucking embarrassed... Jesus Sam, stop it.'
'What?' Samantha asked in a parody of wide eyed innocence. 'So I've made a couple of remarks, Jesus relax will you.' Samantha sniffed in disdain at her perception of my stuffy attitude. 'I find him yummy, that's all. He looks good, he smells good...'
'Well calm yourself down, he's got to be ten years younger than you anyway, you're thirty five... how about fucking acting your age.' 'What?' Samantha said sharply. 'I'm thirty five, so there's no way a stud like him is going to fancy me, is that it?'
'Jesus,' I muttered and looked upwards. 'Listen to yourself. We're here to look at a house, not get into a domestic. I'm not going to argue about how attractive you may, or may not be to a guy ten years your junior.' I looked at Samantha directly, 'I know you like the look of him, but come on... I'm standing right here, I feel a complete fool when you come on so strong like that.'
'Ok,' Samantha murmured quietly. 'Sorry.' She looked at me and smiled sheepishly.
I felt myself soften when I saw the look of contrition on my wife's pretty face. I've always been easy to manipulate, at least as far as Samantha was concerned. That pretty face had attracted me to begin with. Samantha's very kissable mouth with the adorable slight overbite and her big blue innocent looking eyes had captivated me years ago. I was always a sucker for blondes, and Sam's particular shade of 'dirty blonde' really did it for me in the trouser department. Samantha didn't have any single outstanding feature that defined her attractiveness, for me it was the whole package combined. Her bust was neither overlarge nor small, her neat breasts were rounded and well proportioned, and her cleavage was shown to its full potential that day in her button fronted blouse.