I seldom cast a line into the LW pond, many of the submissions are nothing more than disgusting cuck stories, who the hell wants another man, or men, to screw their wife while they watch? It baffles me. From time to time there will be a good story, but it doesn't seem to be the norm. Regular readers in LW are by and large a vicious bunch, you have the BTB crowd and the RAAC crowd which will never agree on anything outside their point of view.
This story is neither, it's a scenario of what I think happens more often than not when a couple loses focus of the reality that if you don't pay attention to your spouse, someone else will. It usually doesn't lead to infidelity, but the opportunity is certainly there. I also know of several couples where one or the other has strayed once and their marriages survived, I know of one couple that have been together without another incident for over 45 years.
Since my one other entry in the LW category only scored a 4.48 I'm not sure why I'm submitting another, maybe I'm a masochist. So, I must ask myself, will this short story be a triumph or a tragedy? Either way it's full speed ahead and let the chips fall where they may. As always, all participants are well over the age of 18.
Taking What He Wants
We kissed upon waking, just as we had done every day we were together for over twenty years, the exceptions being time in the hospital for childbirth or the three or four times one or the other been away for business or continuing ed. It was always a soft tender smooch until we'd brushed teeth and chased the dragon breath from our mouths, after that just about anything could happen during the second or third kiss.
Though our libido and desires wanted things to go another direction we typically settled for a bit of groping and maybe a little suck or lick before becoming sensical once again, in other words, getting ready for the workday. The evenings, now that was a different subject entirely, once we were empty nesters and were sure the little boogers weren't going to just "pop in" on mom and dad to see what they were up to, our home was open territory as it had been before the babies took over.
Nowhere and no time was what we called inconvenient the first three or four years of our sexual renewal, nor was it bad at present, it was less frequent, at least twice a week, often three, and it was more gentle than in our younger years. Although, there was the occasional all out down and dirty twenty-minute fuck session on the living room floor, leaving us breathless for an hour or more wondering why we would abuse our bodies like that at our ages. Those wooden floors are hard dang it, I don't care how lost you are in the throes of lust. Tthen we'd chuckle as we cuddled thinking about our motto from the beginning, "the worst sex we'd ever had was wonderful".
I work security for a large shopping mall, I should qualify that statement with this, I'm in charge of security at the largest shopping mall in our fair city. My days are spent watching and analyzing people, whether in the video screen room watching live feed or walking the actual premises, I was always watching and analyzing individuals or groups. Shoot, I even have a master's degree in applied behavior analysis, when I began college I never would have imagined I could get a job just watching people trying to figure what was in their beady little minds.
To go along with that I have extended knowledge concerning body language, since you must have a masters in psychology to be recognized as a body language expert there are numerous other courses that will teach a person the same things, without an official title. The last thing I wanted in life as we started out was more college, I chose to forego the title and concentrate on finding a real job in my field, which brings me to where I am today.
There had been a power outage in our part of the city shutting down a fifteen block area which included the mall, though everything immediately went into back up mode the generators were never designed to do more than maintain security lighting and basic security. It took over an hour to clear the mall and get all the stores buttoned up, with that done and the second shift personnel dutifully taking care of things I went home early. My bride generally gets home an hour or more before I do so I was excited to be home early, get supper started and be a blessing to her.
Imagine her surprise when she walked in forty-five minutes later than usual to not only the smell of a bouquet of aroma's wafting from the kitchen but to see me sitting in my easy chair. Except it wasn't the woman I'd kissed goodbye that morning, that woman wore a skirt ending an inch above the knee, a blouse that was thick enough to hide the details but thin enough to let you know what existed, panty hose and two inch heels. This woman before me had on a skirt that ended at least five inches above her knees, a blouse thin enough I could see the soft lacy bra beneath, one with the straps to the side pushing everything front and center, allowing a lot of cleavage to be exposed if the wearer so chose. Which wasn't the case with Evelyn, but even with the blouse buttoned high it was obvious what was beneath.
She hadn't worn that bra to work, what I watched her put on as we dressed for work was a non-descript full cup cotton thing with a cute floral design and matching cotton hip hugger panties to match. Then there was the panty hose I'd watched her shimmy into, getting my hand playfully slapped for dipping it into the front for a quick feel of her silky down, those were missing. In their place were sheer stockings (likely silk) that ended in a pair of four-inch heels. Mind you her hair wasn't mussed, her makeup no different than the end of any other day, clothes weren't askew, nothing to throw up a red flag other than how she was dressed.
With a plastic bag hanging on one arm and the purse over her shoulder she stopped, gasped slightly, smiled, and blurted.
"You're home early. Was it the power outage, I heard about it at work?"
I smiled, "Put your purse and bag down then come sit with me." There was no animosity in my voice, no suggested blame, no intimidation, or implied accusation, just a simple invitation to sit with me.
When she moved to my chair she sat on the floor next to me, I put my hand under her arm lifting as she stood and said.
"I don't want you to sit near me, I want you to sit with me. Come on, you haven't sat in my lap for a long time."
She tried but didn't succeed in sitting across me without exposing a lot of leg, by the time her legs were draped over one arm and her body rested in my other her skirt had ridden up enough to show a clip on her garter strap, she tried tugging the skirt down, I put my hand on hers.
"Nuh-uh, leave it as is. Let's have a little talk. First, how come you're so late, with part of the city shut down traffic shouldn't have been a problem."
In answering she seemed a little nervous but in a guilty way, "Roz and Marge asked me to have a quick drink with them on the way home, I thought I'd get here before you did and start supper."
I quickly did the math in my head, considering when she'd have gotten off work and the time she walked through the door there wouldn't have time for anything other than a drink. I could smell the blackberry brandy on her breath, her favorite.
"So where are your clothes Evy? You didn't leave the house in what you're wearing? I see you have stockings on, seamed at that, my favorite, which tells me you are either wearing a garter belt or have on the dark blue silk garter panties you love to tease me with."
As I spoke I slid my hand under her skirt headed for the promised land, she softly closed them, I stopped, looked at her and said, "Open", which she did by relaxing. When my hand hit the crotch I was thankful they weren't wet with excitement. They felt warm and slightly damp as was usual for my girl, I immediately ruled out anything nefarious. I found myself feeling guilty to have even had the thoughts, but then I wasn't the one who had changed into a more revealing outfit after work and gone with her girlfriends to a bar.
To my surprise what my fingers did encounter were a pair of silk panties, as I felt along the edges I allowed my hand to rub over the top of her mound. Nope, those were definitely not the panties I'd watched her put on hours ago, they were the garter panties I'd ordered from Paris two Christmases ago. Pulling my hand from beneath her skirt I brought my hand to my face and smelled before I spoke.
"That's my Evy, I love the smell of you babe. So, where are your clothes?"
