My Wife and the Teenager

1.Nancy Indulges a Whim

Back in Berkeley after our short visit to Montana, where I interviewed for a job at the small university in Butte, Nancy and I were given an opportunity that has pretty much taken over our lives recently. (As for the job in Montana, it was offered to me. I turned it down, though, because my grant-funded job at UC was renewed for another year and the opportunity I just mentioned meant we had to stay put in the Bay Area.)

Thanks to a loan from Nancy's parents, we were able to buy an old two-story house in the inner Richmond District of San Francisco. So, in late August, we moved out of our Berkeley apartment and into the house, which has great potential but is definitely a fixer-upper. I've got a longer commute now to my job, but at least now we live in a more interesting place.

Nancy, meanwhile, found work downtown at an art gallery. The pay isn't great, but she likes the work environment.

Working on the house has taken up most of our "leisure" time. I have quite a bit of job flexibility, including being able sometimes to work at home, so I've been able to get to home improvement projects at odd hours as well as on weekends. Nancy's work schedule is flexible, too. So she's able to help me with the some projects.

But we had to hire several contractors to do the jobs we couldn't do ourselves. Which leads to the main point of this narrative.

One Wednesday evening in late September, just after I got home, Nancy and I were in the kitchen throwing a few things together for dinner while the drywallers finished work for the day in the upstairs bedrooms. Nancy, with a twinkle in her eye, kissed me as I was putting the salad together and told me quietly that an interesting thing had happened a little earlier.

"It wasn't really planned," she began. "But, you know how I am. I had a chance to 'accidentally' show off my body and I took it. I hope you don't mind. I think this is the first time I've done this sort of thing without you being present. It was an evil-minded spur-of-the-moment impulse."

"I wish I'd been here, that's for sure. But go ahead and tell me about it."

We listened to the guys upstairs turning on fans to dry the spackling they'd just applied. Then Nancy put her arms around me and gave me a deep kiss. She was wearing a sweat shirt and a short skirt, something she'd thrown on quickly, apparently. It wasn't the sort of thing she'd normally wear.

"In a few minutes," she whispered to me, "when the guys come downstairs, you'll notice that there's a new helper. He's just a kid, really."

"That's probably Vince's nephew. He mentioned something about having him help."

"Maybe. I never talked to him."

We expected to hear the drywallers' footsteps on the stairs, but none came. They must have been doing more clean-up.

"Anyway," whispered Nancy, "when I got home at about 3:00 o'clock I could hear the guys working upstairs. I had a snack and decided to take a shower downstairs since they're still working on the upstairs bathroom."

[Since Nancy and I had been displaced from upstairs, we'd been sleeping in the guest room adjoining the kitchen. It was more comfortable than the small cabin in the back yard which the previous owner had used as an art studio. A small bathroom with a shower adjoins the guest room. Its door is only three feet or so from to the door into the kitchen.]

"So, just as I was entering the guest room to get undressed for my shower," she continued, "I caught a glimpse of this kid out of the corner of my eye. He was just walking into the kitchen. Maybe he was getting a drink of water. Anyway, since he'd been working upstairs when I got home, he had no way of knowing who I was. But I knew he saw me going into the guest room."

"Did he say anything to you?"

"No. And as I said I didn't say anything to him. I decided, on an impulse, not to let him know I'd seen him."

"But you were still fully dressed?"

"Yes. I had on the long skirt and sweater I'd worn to work."

Just then we heard the drywallers coming downstairs. I walked out to the bottom of the stairs to intercept them. Vince, the contractor, was the first one down. Behind him was a foreign-looking guy who works for him and, behind this guy, the teenager.

Vince and I talked a few minutes about the job upstairs. He'd be back tomorrow morning, he said. He'd like us to leave the fans on for as long as possible, unless the sound of them was too annoying. As we talked, his main helper and the teenager carried some things out to Vince's truck.

The boy was tall, slender, and rather pale. I could make out short red hair under his baseball cap, which he wore backwards. The one time I stood briefly face-to-face with him he seemed to avoid eye contact.

After they left, I rejoined Nancy in the kitchen. She was putting a casserole in the microwave oven to reheat it.

"I saw the kid," I said. "He looks about seventeen. I wonder why he's not in school."

Nancy smiled at me. "Do you want me to tell you the rest of what happened?"

I sat down at the kitchen table and said I'd love to hear it.

"As I said, he saw me going into the guest room, but he didn't know I'd seen him. So, feeling devilish, I decided to give him a little show. You see, there's a direct view from the sink here into the guest room when the door is open."

I stood up and walked over to the sink to see what she was talking about. She was right. I could see all the way to the back of the guest room, where a small mirror hung.

"I left the door open when I went in. Why not? It was reasonable for me to think I was alone, right? Just before I started undressing, though, I caught a glimpse of him in the mirror. He was standing by the sink looking straight at me. I sat down on the bed then, out of his line of vision, and pulled off my boots. I also took off my top so I was naked except for my long skirt. I figured that if he got nervous or had a fit of decency he'd use the time I was out of his line of vision to leave the kitchen and go back upstairs."

I'd left this morning before Nancy got dressed for work, so I said, "You said you were just wearing your skirt. Were you wearing a bra?"

"Of course not. You know I hardly ever wear one. I wasn't wearing panties, either. At the art gallery they're really relaxed about what I wear. It's not like when I worked at the insurance company."

"So what happened next?"

"I stood up, topless of course, and returned to the mirror with my back to him. At first, as I began unzipping my skirt, I couldn't see him. Then I caught a glimpse of part of his face, just his right eye really, as he peered at me. He must've been standing a couple of feet back from the sink and, I think, leaning forward. He probably thought if I couldn't see his whole body he was safe from detection."

"So I guess he's not a practiced voyeur. Then what happened?"

"I let the skirt drop to the floor. As I did this I saw his right eye open even wider than it'd been before when all he'd had to look at was my naked back."

My cock was already hard, just from hearing this much of the story. I tried to imagine what this teenage boy had been able to see. At 5'4" and about 115 pounds, Nancy has an absolutely gorgeous body. And her slender, shapely ass is definitely one of her best features. To think that she'd just shown it to a complete stranger! And a horny teenager at that!

Nancy continued: "I stepped out of the skirt, which was bundled around my feet, and bent over to pick it up. I did this as naturally as I could but managed to give him a good show by letting the skirt drop out of my hand so I had to bend down a second time to get it. Without looking too much like a professional stripper, I gave the kid a nice view of my naked butt."

By now, I'd pulled Nancy down into my lap and was caressing her breasts. "Did you spread your legs so he got a really, really good view?"

"I think so. The light wasn't too good in the room so he might not have seen quite everything."

"Well, it's the thought that counts," I said, laughing. "What happened next?"

"I didn't want to frighten him by turning around and walking directly toward him as I went into the bathroom. So, improvising, I made myself temporarily sightless. I got several sheets of tissue paper from the night-stand and, returning to the mirror, began dabbing my eyes with them. I tried to make it look like I was, a little roughly, removing eye make-up. As I did this I got another glimpse of the boy, half of his face at least, as he continued staring at my body. Then, still wiping my eyes, I turned and walked the four or five steps to the bathroom and entered it."

I had my hand up between Nancy's legs by now. She'd spread her legs to let me finger-fuck her as she described the incident with the teenage boy.

"As I walked into the bathroom, I wasn't absolutely sure he was still there and I made sure not to look where he'd been standing. The last thing I wanted to do was to 'catch' him looking. In case he was still there, I turned on the light in the bathroom so he could get another good look at my body just before I shut the door."

"So you didn't leave the bathroom door open?"

"I decided he'd had enough of me for one day. Actually, that's not quite true. As I came out of the shower about ten minutes later, naked with a towel around my head, I looked to see if he was still there. But he wasn't. Maybe I'll get another chance to tease him later. And maybe we can arrange it so you get to participate somehow. Would you like that?"

Instead of answering, I just kissed her. Then I picked her up and carried her into the guest room where we spent almost an hour fucking. As I fucked her, I kept asking her how it felt being spied on by a teenage boy. As she was cumming, for the second time, she answered me: "Oh fuck, Cal! Being watched like that felt like I was back in high school again."

As we lay in each other's arms afterwards, I asked her what she'd meant by the high school remark. She said she wasn't sure. Maybe, she said, she was thinking of a time years ago when a couple of boys peeked at her as she changed into her bathing suit. She pretended, at the time, that she didn't know they were spying on her.

I didn't press her further on the incident. There was time for that later. Instead, we got up and had dinner. Afterwards, we watched a video and went to bed like a married couple. I was just dozing off when she whispered in my ear, "Let's think of something else I might do for that boy working for Vince. That is, if he's of legal age."

Thursday morning Nancy and I got up fairly early. I had a morning meeting with my team in Berkeley and she had to go in early to help take down an exhibition. Sitting in the kitchen having coffee and toast, we discussed yesterday's incident. Actually, it was a continuation of pillow talk from last night.

She decided she didn't want to repeat the caught-naked-getting-ready-to-shower scene. It was too hard pretending that she couldn't see her voyeur standing a few feet away in kitchen. If we wanted to give the kid another treat we'd have to think of something more creative.

"I'll be home early today," I said. "I should get here about the same time you do, that is around 3:30. I'll try to learn more about him. I want to make sure he's not seriously unbalanced. I don't want him falling in love with you and going nuts."

"I agree, though I don't think a guy has to be unbalanced to fall for me," she said. "By the way, nothing may come of this. I mean, we probably don't want much sexual adventuring going on here in our new house. I'd be perfectly happy to let yesterday be a one-time-only thing."

We caught the bus downtown. Nancy got off first. I watched her walk, a little haughtily with her head held high, down Geary Street toward the art gallery. To me, she looked like a movie star. Under her coat, I knew she was wearing another long skirt and a somewhat diaphanous blouse. And I knew what anyone else would know if they looked at her closely enough: she was braless. What no one but me knew was that she was also sans panties.

I got off near a BART station and caught a train to Berkeley. All day at work I imagined how she looked taking down paintings from walls. Would she be standing near a window? If she did, the shape of her smaller-than-average breasts would be apparent to anyone with eyes. Actually, I thought, she should've worn grubby clothes to work today. I wondered why she hadn't.

2.We're Overheard Fucking

I got home before Nancy did. The guys were working upstairs on the bathroom and the ceiling above the stairs and upper landing. I squeezed past the ladder on the stairs and checked out what they were doing. Then I asked them if they'd like to take a break and have a beer. They took me up on it.

Vince, the contractor, is about forty-five. He was recommended to me by a friend of a friend. His number-one helper is Raheem, a young South Asian guy whom, I think, Vince picked up the casual labor office. The teenager, Bryce, is Vince's nephew.

Bryce, I learned, is staying with Vince until he gets back on his feet. We didn't talk about it, but I got the impression that the boy had been in some kind of trouble back in Louisville, where he'd grown up. He'd dropped out of high school but planned on getting a GED through a program the San Francisco School District offers. He had just turned eighteen.

Vince said it was OK to let him have a beer, so he joined Vince, Raheem, and me in the kitchen. As we drank our beers, we talked a little more about the job. Then I asked Bryce straight out what caused him to move out to San Francisco.

He wasn't shy about discussing it. He said he was "fed up with all the bullshit" he'd encountered in Louisville. He was smart enough. But he hated the social part of high school and he especially didn't get along with the teachers. They were always telling him how he was wasting his potential and their time.

Vince interrupted him. "Don't forget about the drugs," he said.

"It was just some pot. I got caught with it at school and they all freaked out. They called the cops in and took me downtown until my mom came to get me. That's when I decided not to return to school." He had a very slight southern accent.

"So, are you really into drugs?" I asked.

His answer seemed altogether honest. "The funny thing is I'm not. I mean, occasionally I smoke a little pot. But that's all. I've never done any hard stuff."

Vince spoke up for his nephew. "He's actually a good kid. And he's good worker. He's picked up drywalling fast and he's pretty good at plastering, too. Too bad I can't keep him on. He's got to find other work after this job because I'm closing down for a few weeks to go back to Kentucky."

"Me too," said Raheem. "I must find work, too."

Just then (it was a little after 4:00 o'clock) I heard Nancy coming in the front door. Carrying a large shopping bag, she walked straight through the dining room into the kitchen.

"Whew!" she exclaimed, dropping the bag on the floor. "The bus home was sheer hell. It was full of bratty school kids. Can I have a beer, too?"

I stood up and gave her a hug. "Maybe we can drive our car downtown, at least part of the time. Parking is expensive, but maybe you can ask around for a good deal."

I got her a beer and poured it into a tall glass for her. Then I watched (we all watched) as she took off her long coat and draped it over a chair. Slightly flushed from her exertions, she looked absolutely beautiful in her boots, long brown skirt, and cream-colored blouse. She stood leaning against one of the kitchen counters drinking her glass of beer. She knew, of course, that all four of us (Vince and Raheem seated at the table, Bryce and I standing at opposite sides of the room) were checking her out as she stood there. It was the kind of situation she especially liked -- being the center of men's attention -- even if, as in this case, the situation wasn't overtly sexual.

After taking several sips, Nancy said to Vince, "We've met, but I don't know the other two guys."

Vince introduced Raheem and Bryce. Raheem politely stood up and shook hands with her. Bryce shook hands with her, too, but didn't look her in the face as he did.

Nancy quickly finished her beer (I guess the bus-ride home had made her pretty thirsty) and announced provocatively, "I have to get out of my work clothes." I noticed she smiled at Bryce as she said this. The poor kid actually blushed.

She then picked up her shopping bag, went into the guest room, and shut the door behind her.

Vince stood up and said, "Come on, guys. That's enough of a break. Let's finish up for the day." He headed back upstairs, his two helpers trailing behind him. Just as he was leaving the dining room to mount the stairs, Bryce darted a glance back into the kitchen where I was. Ours eyes met and I thought he looked worried about something. Did he suspect that Nancy had seen him watching her yesterday? Did he think she might've told me about it?

I quickly went into the guest room and found that Nancy had already stripped naked. She lay on the bed smiling up at me irresistibly with her legs spread and her right hand caressing her cunt. "He's pretty cute, isn't he?" she asked. "Did you find out how old he is?"

Actually, it hadn't occurred to me whether or not Bryce was "cute." I guess, for a kind of gawky, non-athletic kid, he was good-looking enough.

I lay down next to her and pulled her naked body up against me. "He's eighteen. He seems like a slightly screwed-up kid, but he's not bat-shit crazy." I told her, with her occasional prodding, all I'd learned about Vince's nephew. She listlessly masturbated herself as we talked.

After a few minutes, Nancy said, "Why don't you get naked, too?" As I got undressed, she got under the covers, shuddering. "Come under here and warm me up please."

As soon as I climbed into bed next to her, Nancy slid down my body and took my hardening cock in her mouth. I lifted up the covers to watch her lick and suck it, wondering what had gotten into her. She wasn't normally this horny when she got home after work.

But I didn't give it a whole lot of thought. After warming ourselves while doing an under-the-covers 69, we threw the covers off so we could move more freely. We proceeded to do all kinds of wonderful things to each other's bodies.

Overhead, I could hear Vince and the guys gathering up their stuff and heading downstairs. But I think Nancy was too involved at the time riding my cock to notice. She seemed in another world. I think, for her, just being in the same house with a lot of guys was sexually arousing. Having sex with one of them, even if it was her husband, probably just added to the excitement.

Then I thought I heard the guys leaving out the front door.

Meanwhile, as she continued to ride my cock, Nancy's whimpering and moaning got louder and louder. She was obviously approaching an orgasm. But despite all the noise she was making, I thought I heard someone moving around in the kitchen. Apparently not all of the guys had left. And I knew whoever was in the kitchen could easily hear her.

As she achieved her orgasm, she became quite vocal and pretty loud. "Oh, shit! Cal, I'm cumming! Oh, yes! Oh, yes!" It was very exciting to me knowing that some guy in the kitchen might be listening to my gorgeous wife's ecstatic utterances. And, I hate to say it, but I liked the idea of some other guy knowing how good I was at getting my wife off.

Even as I ejaculated into her, though, I had to laugh at myself. Sure, she was having a big orgasm with me. The fact is, because of the way she's wired sexually, she has orgasms with almost any guy she fucks. There's nothing special about me. Because she loves me, however, she likes to feed my ego by saying that there is.

As we lay next to each other for several minutes in what used to be called post-coital lassitude, I listened for more sounds in the kitchen. I didn't hear any, though. Instead, I thought I heard the front door closing. I whispered to my wife that we might've been overheard having sex. She kissed me and said, "Good."