Happy Birthday, Beautiful Boy
Jim Bennings was beside himself. Sweat streaming down his face, chest, and back, he stared down at the smoking lawnmower in disbelief. It was bad enough that the pump in the hot tub went out when the first cool streak of this summer was due to come only a day or so later. When his attempt at repair became too frustrating, he figured he would mow the lawn to take his mind off of the tub (usually he paid Jared, the next-door neighbor's kid, to do it) and the mower, with an ear-shattering POP! and belch of blue-black smoke, announced in no uncertain terms that it was having none of that shit. He didn't know whether to laugh, cry, start cursing a blue streak or get shit-faced drunk. Laughter was definitely not an option; he was far too pissed off. Jim wasn't the crying type, it was too early in the day to get hammered and he was afraid if he started swearing he would be unable to stop. That left only option 5; start dismantling the mower to identify what part -- or parts -- needed replacing. He and Marie weren't poor by any measure. However, they were determined to get their mortgage paid off early, by the end of the year if possible, and had been playing things very tight in the belt lately. At the moment a new lawnmower was just not in the budget if they wanted to keep on schedule.
So what to pay for first, the mower or the tub? Jared usually cut the lawn using Jim's mower; surely he could use his dad's for the next couple weeks. Jim would throw in a few extra bucks for gas and the use of their equipment. He really wanted that damned hot tub functional for the week of cool evenings coming up so he and his wife could soak without cooking to death. Their small in-ground pool was nice to splash around in and cool off in the heat, but they were both looking forward to some warm, bubbly jet action. Their younger daughter was away on a two-week camping trip with old high school friends, leaving the couple the freedom to play, indoors or out, in whatever ways that pleased them. And many of the things that pleased them involved gratuitous nudity and the sorts of activities that, generally, most people would prefer not to see their parents engaged in. They'd hoped there'd be some of those activities taking place in that tub.
He heard the glass patio door slide open behind him. "Jim, what the hell was that?" He turned around and Marie was standing there looking slightly disheveled, her face flushed with a sheen of sweat. She must have been working out.
She stepped through the door with a look of concern on her face. He looked back at her with an expression that was equal parts helplessness and frustration, but, his eyes wandering over her appreciatively, he managed a weak half-smile. "Damned lawnmower just shot craps on me."
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, baby," she said as she moved to him, circling his waist with her arms, "This hasn't been your day, has it?" She rested her head on his shoulder and hugged him tightly, sliding her right hand up and down his perspiration-slicked back.
"It just got a little better. A good boobie-hug goes a long way to taking the edge off a rough day."
She leaned back and grinned up at him, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "They're very versatile... that's just one way they can save the day." She winked slyly and gave a quick, teasing little caress along the length of his cock through the fabric of his shorts and gave it a few squeezes for good measure.
He gently grasped her shoulders and smiled, pushing her back at arms' length and running his eyes up and down her luscious, curvy body.
Goddamn she's gorgeous
, he thought for the trillionth time.
How the hell did I end up with her? I'm a 52-year-old working class schlub and I'm married to a woman who could be a fucking pornstar.
Jim knew he was no slouch. He stayed active, working out regularly, and his machinist job involved a lot of heavy lifting of metal stock and large parts. His chiseled good looks and touch-of-gray hair looked distinguished rather than old, and he sometimes noticed -- often with his wife's teasing commentary -- double-takes and admiring glances from college-age and even high-school girls. But Marie was quite simply the sexiest woman he'd ever met. If she were blonde, she'd be considered a Blonde Bombshell, but she wasn't -- she was a redhead, which, to Jim, made her far sexier. 26 years of marriage and, at the age of 46, she still was outrageously sexy. With her baby-smooth skin, virtually devoid of wrinkles or crows-feet (she was religious about skin care), she could easily be mistaken for a woman in her early thirties. Yes, the years and two kids had added some extra pounds, but damn, were they distributed well. She was always a bit on the statuesque side, but over the years she'd filled out to buxom, shapely magnificence. Her long, wavy naturally red hair cascaded over her shoulders like ringlets of dark, coppery fire, and her emerald-green eyes twinkled with playfulness and the promise of sensual delights to come. And come they did, in abundance.
Jim and Marie had come to the conclusion, years ago, that the secret to a good and lasting marriage was to never stop fucking, and to make sure your partner came regularly. Okay, maybe that was a bit simplistic; there were a lot of other important things too, but that one was absolutely carved in stone. Fortunately, this was not a difficult oath for them to stick to. They absolutely reveled in each other's bodies, and their imaginations abounded with ways to surprise and please each other. Sex was a smorgasbord for them; a little of this, a bit of that, try something new, go back for seconds, thirds, fourths, fifths if you really liked it, and hell, it's all you can eat so just go for broke. They sampled pretty much everything... roleplay, bondage, dirty talk, some light BDSM, shooting home videos -- Marie especially liked that -- and never stayed with something so long it became routine. Rotation, rotation, rotation. Keep it fresh. Both of their daughters were away... their oldest had her own place and their younger girl was away at college -- but still came home for the summer -- so they had the whole house to themselves for nine months out of the year and they had the freedom to play like they did when they were a young couple starting out. They were even members of a local swinger's club. They'd only swapped partners a few times, and usually then only for oral sex (they'd both gained notoriety for their skills at oral pleasure and were regularly hit up with invitations for play.) Most of the time, however, they just went to the club parties to fuck like jackrabbits in the group areas and bask in the unbridled atmosphere of sexuality there. Like true exhibitionists, they always went the extra mile to put on a good show and actually got applause from the group a couple times, which was a lot of fun.
"I think you need to come inside... get a shower and cool off." Jim snapped out of his reverie and sighed. Right now he really wasn't in a state to concentrate on repairs and her suggestion sounded like the best possible option at his disposal. "You look way too pissed off right now to get any real fixing done."
The woman can read me like a book
, he thought. "Um, got anything in mind to take my mind off of my mechanical aggravations?"
