It had been almost 3 months since that conference and our fun filled night with Aaron. Steve and I were still going strong and that little (major) event seemingly had little effect on our relationship. He would say it made us stronger, but outside of more fantasy role playing and a new dildo aptly named, 'Purple Aaron,' I wasn't seeing much difference. Our sex continued to be amazing and we weren't really reliant on any toys or fantasies. 'Purple Aaron' was the only toy we used anymore, but maybe only once every three or four times. My husband wanted me more than ever and the passionate way he takes me these days makes me wet just thinking about it.
We talked a lot after that night. While it was incredibly fun and an amazing experience, it was not without its perils. First and foremost, the old joke of 'making her walk funny' was the reality for almost a week. The only thing I could compare it to was the birth of our first child; it hurt that bad. We couldn't have sex the whole next week and I drew the line in the sand right then and there -- no more double penetration, toys or otherwise. He reluctantly agreed with me, but his sneaky ass tried pulling out our two smallest toys one night and I immediately shot it down. The other peril, as I found out, was that it made my husband a little crazy for a few weeks.
His fantasy, acted out, drove him to try to hook me up with every single guy we ever knew. Fun games of 'what about this guy' quickly became annoying and I had to sit him down and tell him to pump the brakes. Within a few conversations I realized he was just so excited about the possibilities that night opened up; he couldn't contain himself. I had to make it clear that it may very well be just a one-time thing. I will not be set up like that again. I will not fuck some stranger randomly like that again. Or so I thought. And despite loving being his little fuck slut, that's not all I would be. I was still a wife, still a mother, and my little cumslut whore alter ego was just that. It had certainly become a part of me, but we had to be honest about how big of a piece of me it was. Afterall, Superman was only Superman for maybe a few moments every week. Most of the time he was just Clark Kent -- going to work, doing the dishes, folding the laundry, and paying his bills.
Steve settled down after about month and we got into our perfect rhythm. Our relationship continued to flourish and we both remained open to the possibility of another man coming into our lives. We weren't going to pursue it, but if it happened, it happened. Again, he wasn't allowed to set me up, but if someone interesting came into his life, he could let me know and I'd decide if I was interested. It was my decision, my choice, period. I worried a bit that this would open the flood gates, but he remained surprisingly restrained. Outside of some role playing here and there, he never brought it up. I told him I was proud of him. He told me that I was more than enough for him and the only way his fantasy worked was if I was just as into it as he was. He confessed to feeling a little bad about how he pushed the Aaron situation, but he justified it by telling himself I'd never let it happen without his coaxing. Truthfully, he was right. I wouldn't have ever done anything like that on my own, but now I was totally open to it -- just on my terms.
As I ushered the kids into the van, I couldn't wait for the freedom that their summer camp was going to offer us. The kids were excited too. Last year they kicked and screamed, cried when we dropped them off, and it nearly broke our hearts. This year I had to yell at them to come back and say goodbye when they scrambled to find their friends from last summer after we pulled into the parking lot. Steve joked as we headed back home, "ok, you're not allowed to wear any clothes all summer since the kids won't be here." Fine by me.
A couple of days after dropping the kids off, I took a little siesta from my daily grind to lay out and work on my tan. Now that I was 100% working from home, it really gave me some freedom that I needed to take more advantage of. I pulled the folding lounge chair past the pool and into the middle of the back yard. Our yard was pretty small and very well hidden. Between our privacy fence and tall bamboo around the permitter, there was only a tiny area that remained sunny at all times. That was always my little tanning spot. No matter what time of day I went out there, that spot was sunny.
Outside of some work in the garden, I didn't have much of a base coat so I went heavy on the SPF 15 everywhere my little teal string bikini didn't cover with thoughts of lying there all morning... maybe every morning. Laying the chair flat, draping my towel, I popped in my earbuds and laid back in the sun. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, an hour or three in the sun every morning was my little blissful escape. Friday was a day just like the others. I was lounging with soft rock in my ears, a cool breeze over my body and the hot sun beating down on me. I might have lasted 10 minutes before dozing off. A momentary lapse in the relentless sun woke me up as a man-shaped shadow leered over my sun-kissed, glistening body. I screamed, rolled myself up in the towel as I scrambled to my feet and sprinted toward the house while the strange shadowy figure jolted through the gate, slamming it behind him.
Locking the slider behind me and running around the house checking every door and window, I called Steve.
"There was a man in the back yard standing over me while I was laying out in the sun!"
"I'm sorry, what?"
"A guy. A guy was in our yard with me while I was laying out! I woke up and he was just standing there!"
"Fuck! Are you ok? Is he still there?"
"I... I don't know. I ran inside and he ran out the gate."
"What was he doing?"
"He was just standing there."
"What did he look like?"
"I don't know. I couldn't see. The sun was in my eyes and he was just... there," I sob.
"I'm coming home."
Just then the doorbell rings.
"There's someone at the door."
"Lock yourself in our room, hide in the closet and grab the shotgun."
"Ok. I'm going. They're ringing the doorbell again. God damnit Steve I'm so fucking scared."
"It's going to be fine. Just sit there."
"I'm in. I got the gun. I'm going to check the camera."
"Ok, I'm in my car and on my way. Get 9-1-1 ready just in case they don't leave."
"Steve... It's a boy. There's a boy at our door waving at the camera."
"Ask him what he wants."
"Ok... Hi, can I help you?"
I tremble as the boy with curly black hair and sparkling hazel eyes stares into the camera.
"Uh, yes maam. I'm sorry I scared you. We were throwing the football around and Tony kicked it over the fence. I'm really sorry. I was just getting the ball and then you screamed and I freaked out and took off. So... I'm sorry."
"Did you hear that Steve?"
I hear him cackling through the phone.
