"Is that Rick actually mowing his own lawn?" I asked Joe, my closest neighbor. It was Saturday afternoon, and we'd just returned from playing golf.
"Yep," said Joe. "This last month he's been doing lots of chores."
"Unbelievable," I replied, opening my trunk so he could get his clubs. "That guy won't even bring his trash cans back from the curb. He makes Julie do it. Wonder what's changed?"
"Oh, I know the reason. Julie and Kathleen drink a lot of wine at their little book club, and they spill all their secrets." Kathleen was Joe's wife. It figures he'd be in on the latest gossip. "After years of frustration with her lazy ass husband, to get him motivated, Julie cut him a kind of deal."
"Deal? What deal?" I asked, now getting my clubs and closing the trunk.
"Well, she makes him work for sex."
We both stood with our clubs, watching him finish emptying the bag, then trying to restart the mower. He was seriously out of shape. It was painful to see him soaked in sweat.
"Wow, she must be giving him quite the blow jobs. He's giving his all out there."
"Even better," said Joe, giving me a knowing look.
"You gotta' tell me," I replied, obviously intrigued.
"Anal," he replied.
"Really? I mean, respect for his getting what he wants and all, but I'm not sure that would be my go-to request."
"Oh, it does it for him man. Kathleen says Julie's not into it, but she can at least tolerate it. But man does she make him work. She writes out a month long detailed list of things for him to do, then checks off each one. Part of the deal is he can't complain, and if she asks him to go back and correct a mistake, he has to do that too. Then, after the list is completed, he gets his payment."
"That makes so much sense," I said. "Do you think Kathleen would go for the system?"
"Believe me I tried proposing it. She basically told me she's not a whore, so don't treat her like one."
Later that night, when getting ready for bed, I told my wife what I'd heard. She didn't know Julie or Rick that well, but I knew she'd get a kick out of the gossip. Of course I secretly wanted her to agree to the same kind of arrangement, so I was sort of feeling her out.
"That's crazy," said Nicolette, putting lotion on her legs and arms in bed. "But now that you tell me it makes sense. He hasn't done anything since we moved here. Either she does it, or they hire someone. Suddenly I saw him scrubbing the porch last week."
"Seems like a good arrangement," I said casually as I plugged my phone into the charger by the bed.
"Well, don't think that you doing your chores will get you your little perverted sex fantasies," she replied, now putting lotion on her feet. She sleeps in her underwear, and as she flippantly shut me down, I kept starting at her legs and ass in her sheer beige panties.
"Well, it doesn't have to be anal," I replied, "but maybe we could work out a little payment plan of our own."
"Ugh! You have to make everything about sex!" she replied, putting the container of lotion away and yanking the covers onto her. "If you want what Rick's getting, why don't you go sleep over there." She aggressively turned her back to me and turned the lamp off.
"Because I want you," I sighed disappointingly. Of course I figured the conversation would end like this. After 20 years together, I really did just want her. Nicolette looks amazing in her later 40's, hotter than she did when I first met her. She has a real elegance about her, much more beautiful than slutty or over the top sexed up women who read more like clichés than real wives. Over the years she's gained at most a few more pounds, but in the right places, especially her ass. While she's not big chested, fortunately that's never been my thing. Part French, she has these perfectly small tits like the European models. Since she's rather shy, she won't show them off much, to me or anyone else. At most in public she offers just the slightest cleavage.
Ironically, it's because she's so demur that I want to act out dirty fantasies with her. She won't even allow any raunchy talk during sex, saying that it makes her feel like a cheap whore. Though we hug and kiss like a normal couple, she's also not up for much sex, at most twice a month. Thankfully around me she can be just a little bit of tease, enough to keep me really interested. She'll fix her hair in her bra and panties sometimes when she knows I'm watching, then pretend to get really annoyed if I say or try something. Beyond these little shows, though, she doesn't offer much at all.
Naturally I didn't push the issue about Rick and Julie's agreement anymore that night, going back to our usual routine the next day. I did stay up, though, fantasizing about the possibilities. When I couldn't sleep and she pushed the covers down, saying it was hot, I ended up jerking off as I stared at her ass. Of course I wanted to wake her up and initiate something, but unlike the erotica stories I read about hot wives who jump right into it, mine usually just gets really upset with me and tells me to keep my hands off of her.
A few days later, kind of out of nowhere, she came into my home office around lunch time. We were redoing our kitchen, and when I saw the giant architecture books she carried I knew she wanted me to help make some decisions. The one real agreement we did have is that when either of us had serious work to do we'd leave each other alone. I started to tell her I couldn't address anything with the kitchen, since I had a big deadline, when she interrupted me.
"Okay then, let's try it," she replied.
"Try what?" I asked, honestly clueless what she meant as I kept trying to focus on the client's contract I'd been reading.
"The arrangement," she said, now sitting on my desk. She was wearing a knee-length, black skirt with tan, opened toed heeled shoes. I couldn't see her panties as she sat in front of me, a little to the right, but from the tone of her voice and the little playful smile I knew she was making herself available.
