"...it's very different nowadays," Marisa heard John say from out on the porch.
Her husband and his friend Oliver were drinking beer, overlooking the backyard. She thought briefly about how there just never seemed to be any time for gardening. Her husband didn't seem to care that much, and in all fairness, Oliver probably didn't mind the mess either. She was pleased to see that her husband had at least cut the grass like she had asked him.
She shook these considerations out of her head as she joined them, holding three beers. "What's different honey?"
"Ah, perfect timing," John said, ignoring her question. He put down his empty bottle on the table and accepted a new one from his wife. "That's my dream girl, bringing fresh drinks just in time."
"You make me feel so appreciated," Marisa retorted sarcastically. Her husband grinned and blew her a kiss. Oliver was more formal, getting up to greet her by kissing her on the cheek.
"Nice to see you."
He was one of John's oldest friends, and she had known him almost as long as she had known her husband. He had come to stay with them several times before, usually after breaking up with the latest girlfriend. His relationships rarely passed the one year mark, and the pattern was repeating itself yet again.
"Thanks for dropping the kids off," her husband said as she took her seat next to him. This time his appreciation sounded more sincere. "Any problems?"
"No, not really. They seemed excited to stay with their grandparents."
"You didn't vacate the house of kids on my behalf, did you?" Oliver asked.
"The idea was to cheer you up - not scare you away from the idea of family life by exposing you to screaming kids all night," John said and chuckled.
"And to tell you the truth, it's nice to slip out of the whole mum role from time to time," Marisa added. "I was actually planning to go out with my girlfriends tonight, but several of them had sick kids so we decided to cancel."
"That's a pity," Oliver commented ruefully.
"It's OK," she said. "It just means you boys won't have the house to yourself tonight. I can act like I'm one of the guys though."
To emphasize her point, she took a swig from her bottle. A bit too eager, the beer overflowed in her mouth as the foam expanded. The guys laughed at her as she drooled onto her t-shirt.
"Very classy, honey! Shall I get you a bib?"
"Shit..." Marisa muttered as she tried to wipe the beer off her chest with her hand. The only effect was that she was making her breasts wiggle, and she stopped as she noticed both guys watching her. So much for being one of the guys.
"So, what were you talking about when I came?" Marisa said, changing the subject away from her clumsiness.
"We were just talking about my inability to hold down a steady girlfriend," Oliver moped. "It's starting to get a bit pathetic."
He paused and took a big gulp, finishing his beer.
"So, what was the problem with...?" Marisa paused as she realized she couldn't remember the name of Oliver's most recent girlfriend. "Sorry, was it Karen?"
"Kate," Oliver corrected her. "Not sure exactly what the problem was, but we ended up just having stupid arguments all the time. I think the age gap became a bit of a problem."
"Yeah, you need to stop robbing the cradle," John teased him. "What was she? 22?"
"24 actually. Twelve years apart isn't that huge, but I can't really say that she was mature for her age to be honest."
"How so?" Marisa asked.
"Well, like I was telling John just before you came, she was always ridiculously jealous. It just got too much after a while."
"Yeah, and I was just arguing that people get less jealous as they get older," John added.
Marisa stared at her husband with raised eyebrows. "People? What people?"
John rolled his eyes. "OK, OK. I have gotten less jealous with age."
Marisa smirked. "Is that so?"
"Yeah, I think so," John said defensively. "Don't you agree?"
"I don't know. Maybe." Marisa took a sip from her bottle, more careful this time.
"Come on, give me some credit!" John demanded. "Like tonight, I didn't object at all when you said you were going out partying with your girlfriends. If anything, I encouraged it, right?"
Marisa didn't reply. It was entertaining to watch her husband getting worked up. She could tell he was a bit tipsy and was kind of hoping he would say something stupid she could pick on him for. She loved him, but he could be a bit full of himself sometimes. She took pride in pointing it out to him.
"And I never protest when you dress up all sexy when you go out," he continued.
"Oh, you're such a noble man, aren't you?" she mocked him. "Do you want a medal for not being a possessive jerk?"
"No, honey, I'm just saying that I'm not jealous anymore," John said after a moment of silence, making an effort to halt the argument rather than escalate it.
"Really? And what do you think you could potentially be jealous about? What exactly do you think I do when I go out without you?"
John glanced at his friend. "Maybe we should talk about this some other time."
"Are you suddenly shy? Minutes ago you were bragging to your friend about how you're not jealous."
"Well, OK then" John said. "I think you dance and flirt with other guys. I think you like the attention and that it makes you feel sexy. And I'm OK with that. How is that suddenly not a good thing?"
"Oh no, I guess it's a good thing," Marisa replied. "I just don't think I give you any reasons to be jealous, so don't pat yourself too hard on the back."
"Are you saying that you never act flirtatious?" John asked, switching from defense to offense.
Marisa just shrugged her shoulders, not feeling like getting into details. Even though she always kept it at an innocent level, she certainly enjoyed the attention of other men from time to time. Hearing her husband calling her out on it made her feel mad, but at the same time oddly a bit turned on. She decided to let the argument die down for now and instead pressure her husband more on it later.
But after a moment of silence, John threw more fuel on the fire.
"You certainly seem to be pretty damn horny when you come home after a night out," he said, and she could tell he regretted it the moment his words left his mouth. Still, she wasn't going to let a comment like that fly by unnoticed.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" she spat at him.
"Sorry, nothing... I didn't mean..."
"Are you implying I go out and have some sort of foreplay with other men, and then come home to you for the grand finale?"
Her husband stared at her with open mouth, unable to find any suitable words.
"Is that what you think?" she continued to press him. "Do you think I go out and act like some sort of slut? And are you saying it's all OK as long as I come home to the only cock in the world that could possibly satisfy me?"
John still didn't say anything. He looked confused and regretful, but also somewhat fascinated. In honesty, she was sure he wasn't actually assuming that she did anything particularly raunchy behind his back, but his words implied that she somehow might be acting slutty with her husband's blessing. It struck a chord inside her, and sparks of lust mixed with her anger.
"Sorry honey," John began his defense. "I wasn't suggesting..."
"I think I'll go inside and let you guys sort this out," Oliver interrupted him.
"No, don't bother," Marisa said. "I'm going to take a bath and calm down. And since you guys obviously are such modern men, why don't you prepare dinner in the meantime?"
"Of course, honey," John said, glad to be off the hook for the moment.
As she walked inside, she heard her husband apologizing to Oliver about putting him in the middle of it.
"Don't worry about it," Oliver said and chuckled. "Hearing couples argue kind of makes me feel good to be single"
Marisa headed upstairs to run her bath, and undressed in the bedroom while the tub was filling up. She looked herself over in the full length mirror, pleased with what she saw. She had the body of a 34 year old mother of two, but damn, she was still a sexy one. Sure, her tits weren't as high as they had been before the kids, but they were still good in her opinion. She had gained a cup size, and was now bordering between C and D. They were a source of pleasure for both herself and John, and they also seemed to get attention from other men. Again, the quarrel with her husband started running through her head, this time leaving her more turned on than angry.