Pier Pressure II
Mid Fall
This is a sequel to Pier Pressure. What you need to know if you have not read the original story is that 49 year old Janey Woodhall has just cheated for the first time on her husband of 25+ years. It happened at their lake house.
I, Janey Woodhall, have just dropped my taker off at his house in St. Paul. I do not call him my lover, because even though the sex was as exciting as any in my life, we never made love. I now have to decide exactly how I will face the man I love. I know I will not as my taker, Jimmy Leary, said, "ruin my marriage with honesty." This is Sunday, I have until Tuesday when my husband returns from his consulting job.
I am explaining to my husband how boring it was without him, and I hoped that he would like my newly shaved pussy. The lake messes with your mind, and somehow I forgot to tell him that Jimmy had done the shaving while I was semi-comatose, and that he had enjoyed the first view and more. My husband however was delighted with my spreading to give him his new view, and the sex was better than any returning sex that I can remember.
I really love my husband, Bob, regardless of my weekend activities. I know I owe him big time. I also know that I didn't want him suspicious, so I kept my treatment of him to only 15% better than usual.
I am now at the lake house with Bob. Halloween is my favorite holiday, and even though the kids are gone, we are decorating. There are witches, ghosts, skeletons and pumpkins all over the lake house. We will spend Halloween here.
Spending Halloween with Bob turned out to be too good to be true. Bob is in Denver with a new consult. That's great for our income, but a lonely Halloween. I was conflicted about coming to the lake. I thought of what Jimmy said about meeting at the lake with my husband working. I have confidence in myself, and will not let Jimmy dictate my life. So I am alone at the lake house.
It's Saturday, and after a morning swim I am sunning myself on a lounger. I am not surprised that Jimmy came by. He hands me two bottles of Sancerre.
"Thank you, I love this stuff, but it is going right into the fridge. I will not drink Sancerre with you. That weekend was a one off."
"It's just a gift. No obligations come with it. Drinking alone is certainly an option. I love your decorations, but they are just pictures. There's a pumpkin farm near here. Let's get some of the real thing."
We spent the afternoon picking pumpkins and apples. After loading the back seat, we discussed decorating on the way back. We stopped for dinner at the town diner. The white wine I had was a good Chardonnay, but not as strong or delicious as the Sancerre. At the house, we placed the larger pumpkins near the back and front doors. Then we went inside to place the smaller ones. As I reached up to put one onto the mantle, Jimmy came behind me, put his arms around me and cupped my breasts.
"Jimmy, no."
