Jennifer and I had spent a solid dozen very good years together, the word probably is we were content.
I could go on and on about how sexy and beautiful Jennifer is, but the truth is that her 110 pounds at age 19 when we got married became 140 pounds at 30 something. I don't have any real room to judge though, I spend quite a bit of time tugging at the waist of my own jeans since gravity and 40 pounds of padding tend to keep pushing them down.
What the hell, the 30 pounds on her settled in her fanny and her boobs, which I don't mind at all.
Me? Well, I always say that ya can't drive a spike with a tack hammer.
I never was one to be overly carried away with a need for sex, along towards Friday night or sometimes Saturday morning I get the mood, unless she beats me to it which she does from time to time.
Jennifer was just about right in that she would get the urge from time to time and tease me with no mercy until she got things up and going.
I did the same to her quite a bit.
Sometimes I will be in the mood and start in on her, do silly things like all of a sudden get up and do a strip tease for her.
If I got down on the floor with my legs spread, just my briefs on her lips would purse, then her face would flush as I did some peekaboo stuff.
Jennifer liked surprises, so did I.
Once I found her loading the dryer and I sneaked up behind her and rubbed my hard on up the back of her house dress. She giggled at me and pushed the start button, I reached up and tugged the top down so I could grab a handful of her boobs. That one sticks in my mind because Harmon, our neighbor walked in just as I was invading her. Jennifer was holding onto the edge of the dryer at the time giggling, her big naked titties hanging down, swaying back and forth. As luck would have it both of our asses were aimed right at the side door to the garage.
"Hey, Jack! Can I borrow your lawnmower? Mine won't...oh! Oops! Excuse me!" He beat a hasty retreat.
"Oh my God!" She let out a shriek, as I roared in laughter.
"Dammit, he saw my naked boobs!" She bonked me on the shoulder.
"He saw your snatch, too!" I laughed even harder.
"No, he didn't, how could he?" Her face went bright pink.
"I was kind of holding it open right about then!" I ducked barely in time as she took another swing, like that was my fault or something.
Hell, I hadn't even thought of someone walking in, Harmon just did since the laundry machines and my garage did double duty. I wandered into his from time to time, neither one us us ever gave that a second thought.
Then I realized Jennifer was something less than really upset, in fact she got a smoky look on her face and I pushed her back onto the hood of my 1967 Mustang I had been restoring for about 9 years.
I would have done her in the back seat if it had one. Of course it didn't have any front seats either, or any front fenders.
It did have a hood, though.
Later I thought that maybe I should at least wash the Mustang, I could see where Jennifer's bare ass had shined up a spot real nice.
Then of course we had to listen to Harmon tell the story about catching us screwing at the next few neighborhood parties. Jennifer always turned bright red at that, she really wasn't very badly upset although she pretended to be.
Yep, we were doing pretty well, I was a good and faithful husband.
Of course, I cast a glance now and then at some of the other wives, but Jennifer was always around and at the parties the husbands weren't very far away, there was just no chance.
There was one time when I used the john in Harmon's house, I stepped out and there stood his wife Kathy, waiting her turn. She stuck her index finger inside the buttons on my shirt and rubbed the back of it up and down with a grin, then went in and shut the door.
That got me fussed up real quick but that is the only thing that ever happened.
My buddy Harmon's wife Kathy was the one I would have really liked to poke, she enjoyed being looked at, I think. Shorts that she must have used a tamping stick to get her butt into, halter tops or blouses that lots of creamy tit hung out of were pretty much the rule.
It's just plain hard to have any opportunity to stick your meat into something that it doesn't belong in when the wifey is right there all the time, there just was no opportunity.
It didn't cross my mind much anyway, I was happy with being normal.
+++
I was a good and faithful husband, right up until the moment I wasn't.
My Boss sent me to Sacramento, not a place I really would want to be, that much is for sure. It was go down there and fix an order that someone in our shop had screwed up beyond all recognition, or lose the account. Since that account was right at 150 grand per quarter, it mattered.
My two day trip down and then back became 5, then 6 days, if it wasn't one thing it was something else. Finally I got it all sorted out, the plant manager even shook my hand and thanked me for taking care of fixing our own fuck up.
I was pretty pleased with myself, I was even thinking about a bonus although there was a fat chance of that.
I went back to my hotel, partially packed to go home. All I would have to do the next day was fold up my laptop, throw on some clean underwear and then I would be on my way home.
Thank God! Sacramento pretty much sucked.
I called Jennifer to let her know I would be on the 4 O'clock flight the next day, but the call went to her voice mail. Not a problem, I knew she would get it and be there to pick me up at Portland. Sure as hell she was out shopping, her cell phone sitting at home on the charger like it always was.
If not I could just grab a cab for the $25 ride to our house out on the East side, no big deal.
Expense account anyway, no biggie at all.
Then I went down to eat. The little cafe was packed and I had to wait, finally I got a table.
There were three chairs, I was by myself.
"Excuse me." I heard a voice just as I sat down. I looked up and a pretty woman in a business suit was standing there.
"Yes?" I asked.
"May I share your table? This place is really busy, I want to get a bite before I grab a cab to the airport."
"Sure, help yourself." I waved at a chair.
"Thank you." She sat down, looked at me. She was really very pretty.
"I'm Donna Carrington." She smiled, holding out her hand.
"Frank Jackson." I shook it. Nice and soft. I could see just the upper portion of what looked like a pair of very nice boobs peeking out of the top of her blouse. She had on a vest like jacket with a matching gray skirt, a business woman of some kind.
The waitress came by and took our orders, we sat and chatted. I found out she was headed for Portland too. Since we both lived in the same city, we quickly discovered we had a lot to talk about.
She told me she and her husband lived in Oregon city, I told her my house was on 60th on the East side.
"Rough part of town, huh?" She asked, just as the food arrived.
"Not too bad, 82nd is but it's quieter around our place." My eyes kept glancing down to that small expanse of flesh showing in the open front of her blouse.
Donna just grinned, smiled at me.
We talked about local politics, and didn't even argue. She agreed with me that our homosexual mayor was a pain in the ass, that our new President couldn't run a single seat pay toilet even if he had lots of help.
Hell, she didn't like our Governor either, which I agreed with.
We were getting along famously.
