Jess woke up Saturday morning satisfied in a way she hadn't felt in months. A lazy smile tugged at her lips as flashes of last night played in her mind like scenes from a porno. She remembered her own desperate cries as Tom manhandled her, the way he'd taken her again and again until they both collapsed from exhaustion.
For those precious hours, their problems had disappeared, hungry kisses and desperate touches replacing them. No mortgages, no tenants, no work, just husband and wife, skin on skin, breath on breath, two bodies remembering their old rhythm.
She rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand to study Tom's peaceful sleeping face. At rest, the usual tension had melted away, making him look younger and more carefree, reminding her of the young man she'd first met in college. "I've missed you," she whispered softly. She'd needed this reminder that beneath the distracted husband buried in spreadsheets and work emails lurked the same man who once couldn't keep his hands off her.
Jess glanced at the clock. In less than half an hour, Bob would arrive to move in downstairs. The thought of their new tenant's imminent arrival should've sparked anxiety, but after last night's intimacy, it felt less threatening. Her body was too relaxed, too satiated to harbor any real concern. Still, she'd have to adjust. Their world was about to change whether they were ready or not.
Tom stirred beside her, his eyes fluttering open to find his wife watching him. "Mmm... morning beautiful," he mumbled, rolling to face her. He lazily reached for her, his palm sliding down to cup her ass, pulling her closer towards him.
"God, you're absolutely insatiable," she laughed, deliberately grinding her thigh against his morning wood.
"Says the woman who kept begging for more," he teased. He playfully mimicked her breathless pleas from the night before, "Harder Tom! Deeper! Don't stop! Don't you dare fucking stop!"
Jess laughed and blushed, burying her face in his chest. Those passionate cries hadn't been about physical pleasure alone. They'd been a release of pent-up frustration and longing that had been building for months.
His hand moved to her breasts, softly squeezing, his touch was now gentle where it had been demanding hours before. "You were so fucking loud last night," he continued. "Good thing Bob isn't moved in yet. These walls aren't that thick."
The thought of their soon-to-be tenant hearing her screams sent an unexpected jolt through his body. He tilted her chin upward and kissed her while his hands explored as if they had all the time in the world. She let herself melt into it, let herself forget the clock ticking on her nightstand, but when his hand drifted to the waistband of her panties, she caught his wrist.
"Bob's coming at noon," she reminded him.
He sighed and let his head fall back onto the pillow. "Of course he is."
"You're cute when you pout," she said, crawling out from under the covers and crossing the room. She could feel his eyes on her as she deliberately made a show of stretching.
"Christ, Jess..." he said from the bed.
She flashed him a smile over her shoulder. "You coming? Or do I get all the hot water to myself?'
He didn't need to be told twice.
---
Jess had always loved showering with Tom. She loved sharing the confined space, pressing up against him, feeling his hands explore her body.
Their shower ritual dated back to their college days. Even then, there'd been something uniquely intimate about sharing that confined space, about being completely bare, with nothing to hide behind. Every scar, every imperfection was exposed under the bathroom light.
Their showers had evolved into something deeper now. It was a place where the outside world couldn't intrude. Sometimes they'd make love, but more often than not they'd simply wash and care for one another's bodies.
The memory of their first shared shower remained vivid in Jess' mind. She'd been self-conscious at first, worried about him seeing her without makeup. But Tom had looked at her bare face and whispered "You're so fucking beautiful" with such raw honesty that her insecurities had melted away. That vulnerability, that complete exposure to each other, had formed a cornerstone of their relationship.
Jess reached for the bar of soap, but Tom took it from her. "Let me," he said, his voice carrying a gentle command.
His hands moved slowly over her body, lathering her back, and moving down to her ass. When she turned to face him, his eyes were locked on to hers.
"You're staring," she said.
"You're dangerous, you know that?" he replied.
Before she could respond his lips were on hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. But somewhere in the back of her mind, she still registered the faint rumble of a truck engine outside.
"Shit," she muttered, pulling away. "That's him."
Tom sighed, resting his forehead against hers. "You've got to be kidding me."
They scrambled out of the shower as the intimate moment evaporated.
Jess slid her tiny black tong up her long legs and then fastened the matching bra as her breasts filled the cups.
"Jesus, Jess," he groaned as she bent over to pull on her yoga pants.
"Focus," she replied, pulling an oversized t-shirt over her head.
They moved to the window and peered outside, where Bob's F-150 sat in their driveway. Its faded blue paint and well-earned dents looked completely out of place next to Tom's Lexus and her Tesla.
They watched as Bob unloaded his truck, moving unexpectedly fluidly for a man his age and size. Between loads Bob paused, hands resting on his hips, calculating eyes sweeping across what was his new domain.
"Not much stuff," Tom observed, noting a surprisingly sparse collection in the truck bed. Sturdy boxes, heavy-duty metal shelving units, a grill, and a large suitcase completed the humble inventory. "For someone his age, you'd think there'd be... more."
"Maybe he's learned to travel light," Jess murmured, though part of her did wonder. Two divorces had to leave some sort of baggage, even if it wasn't visible in the truck bed. She found herself curious about what kind of women his ex-wives had been.
"Let's go say hello," Tom suggested, stepping away from the window.
They made their way downstairs and through the front door, coming out into the warmth and bright sunshine.
"Afternoon, Bob," Tom called out, stepping forward with his hand extended. "Welcome to your new home."
Bob straightened up, wiping his palm across his jeans before gripping Tom's hand in a firm handshake. "Afternoon," he rumbled, his eyes flickering to Jess as she offered a warm smile. "Nice day for moving."
"Need a hand?" Tom offered.
Bob paused for a moment and conducted a quick assessment of Tom's physique. "Think you can manage this one?" he asked, gesturing toward what had to be one of the heavy boxes.