Chapter Four
Frankie Comes Home For Lunch
Carmela Robles fumbled through her key ring as she struggled to hold four plastic bags of groceries with one hand, until she finally found the correct key to her apartment's front door. Impatiently, the olive skinned twenty-three year old jabbed the key into the reluctantly yielding deadbolt, turning the knob mercilessly and shoving open the stubborn door. She quickly scurried in with her groceries before the door bounced off the rubber mount on the foyer wall and quietly slid shut behind her.
Once inside, Carmela couldn't help but look at her reflection in the large foyer mirror as she distributed the grocery bags more evenly. She was wearing a grey Tahari teagan knit blouse and black Ibex casual pants. Her accessories included silver and onyx earrings and gray Ecco sandals. Even burdened with her shopping as she was, she still looked as hot and fashionable as any runway model she could imagine.
Carmela glanced down at her occupied hands. When she remembered that her keys were still hanging on the deadbolt outside, she started cursing under her breath. Very impatiently, the well-dressed woman stomped past the small foyer and across the wide living room in route to the kitchen. Once she dropped the clumsy bags off on the kitchen counter, she quickly dispatched the various veggies and the two cartons of heavy pulp orange juice from the bags and into the fridge. This done, she stalked back to the door to retrieve the abandoned keys.
The water was running upstairs, Carmela noticed upon her return. Quizzically, she glanced at her expensive watch to verify the time. It was barely a quarter past one in the afternoon, too early for her husband Frankie to be home. Usually, Frankie wouldn't appear for another fifteen minutes or so, when he made like a small whirlwind and tore through the apartment. Her husband would linger for just enough time to snatch up his lunch and give her a tiny peck on the cheek, before he hurried out to his second job. Perhaps he'd clocked out early from his morning shift at the restaurant, she figured, wondering if they might have time for a quickie once he got out of the shower.
Even as the erotic fantasy ran through her head, she frowned. Frankie never took time out of his busy schedule for her. He'd just pick up his stupid turkey sandwich, his little bag of chips and his can of orange soda, and he'd be right out the door again. Her husband would be in the house for maybe five minutes tops, before Carmela would find herself all alone in the apartment. The result would be sensual dissatisfaction for the rest of the afternoon, and probably for the rest of the night as well. Sometimes, Carmela recalled, her single-minded husband would even forget to wave goodbye.
Well, maybe, since he was home so early, Carmela could put on a show for Frankie and convince him to stay a little longer. The wannabe supermodel hurried into the kitchen and to raid the refrigerator, taking out the turkey, the mayo, two kinds of cheese, and arranging the sandwich on the faux but still showy marble counter. After tossing the loaf of wheat bread and the head of lettuce next to the items, she brought out the butter knife and got down to business. Making short work of the sandwich, she reached into an overhead cabinet for a bag of this week's favored brand of chips, grabbed a cold soda from the fridge, and packed the entire meal neatly into a small brown bag. Content with herself, the determined Carmela set the lunch on its usual spot on the counter. Next, she trotted up the small flight of stairs that led up to the second level of the apartment.
If she got herself ready beforehand, she calculated, there was no way her husband would be able to resist her advances. As hot and bothered as she'd been feeling recently, this was one woman who was not about to simply let her man walk out and be on his merry way. Not without making him give her a good tumble between the sheets first!
Carmela peeled off her outer layer of clothing and set the expensive attire aside. She was left clad only in her Secret Embrace bra, and her Very Sexy hip-hugger panties, both dyed in the blazing red cat color scheme that was sure to enthrall her husband and keep him still enough for her to mesmerize and mount him. Or at least, that was the plan. It was so hard to tell with Frankie sometimes!
Carmela strutted over to the huge, full-length mirror that stood dutifully next to her closet door. Casually, she admired her lean and attractive figure in its reflective stare. Her shoulders were strong, yet still feminine and rounded. Her waist was deliciously thin from her constant workouts at the gym. She studied her toned legs for a moment, before she turned slightly and checked out her very pleasing and tight butt. Whether she was at work, walking around the neighborhood, or even out shopping as she'd been just minutes ago, men were always staring lustily in her direction.
If only her husband Frankie would give her a fraction of that kind of attention, the pretty Latina lamented. Things just hadn't been the same for the last few months, ever since he'd gone out and gotten that second job at the stupid auto detail place. Now, she spent most of her evenings at the gym taking her frustrations out on the aerobics floor or the exercise bikes. Her nights were even worse, as she'd end up watching some stupid reality show that focused more on duck lips and artificial boobs than reality.
With their conflicting schedules, Carmela barely even saw Frankie nowadays, let alone found the time to get him into bed. It had been over two weeks now since the last time they'd even slept together. (Even then, her husband had been too tired to go past an unremarkable five-minute tumble.) Out of desperation, Carmela was now being degraded into trying to seduce her own husband on her own bed!
Hearing the water shut off, Carmela hurried over to the bed and tossed aside the expensive silk covers. The athletic woman slid over the soft, Egyptian cotton sheets, and turned sexily onto her side. One hand propped her head up, while her opposite arm lay casually draped over her waist. One leg was enticingly raised and drawn away from the other. This pose was sure to draw the overworked Frankie's attention quickly and completely to the singular purpose that had blossomed in Carmela's naughty mind. She would not let him out the front door, the desperate wife vowed, until she'd had her way with him. And if he was late in getting to his second job, well, screw that job and screw his uptight boss, too!
She stared out the bedroom door, across the short hall. The knob on the bathroom door turned and the door began to swing open.
"I've been waiting for you, Frankie." Carmela purred in her sexiest voice. "And I'm feeling just a little bit horny right now."
But the man who stepped out of the bathroom and into the hallway wasn't her husband Frankie. It was her nineteen year-old brother-in-law Pablo Junior. The young man wore nothing more than a loose towel wrapped around his waist. In shock, Carmela found herself gawking at his lean frame. A quick moment allowed her to take in his chiseled shoulders and chest, and the sculpted ridges on his abs. Briefly, she even wondered at the parts of him now under wraps. It all happened so fast!
Apparently, Junior was just as surprised as she was. "Oh, shit!" He cursed, taking a step back towards the bathroom. "I didn't think anybody would be home until later!"
The words spurred Carmela into both fury and action. Quickly, she reached out to pull the covers over her exposed body. "What the hell are you doing in here? I should call the police on you!" She shifted over to snatch up the phone from the cradle on the nightstand and was poised to dial Nine-One-One.
"No, wait!" Junior held his hands out to plead, daring to hurry into the large bedroom. "I can explain!"
"Explain that you broke into my house?" Carmela snapped.
"Can you hear me out for one second?"
Carmela glared back at him defiantly. "Go ahead, I'm listening! But this had better be good or else I'm calling the cops!"
Junior seemed to be groping for words. "I, uh, I just got out of jail last night. I went over to my sister's apartment, but, uh, we got into this big fight. She ended up kicking me out and..."
"You just got out of jail, and already you're picking fights all over the place? Is it any wonder you got locked up?"
"Look, the bottom line is that she kicked me out of her apartment. It was pretty late by then, after all of the buses stopped running." Junior explained. "I had nowhere else to go, and no cash for a taxi. I ended up spending the night on a park bench and my clothes got all dirty."
"And? How does any of that explain why you're standing here with my towel wrapped around your waist?"
"Can you let me finish? This morning, I cashed my jail check and got a bus ride, but I didn't want to go home smelling all nasty like a bum. So, I came here first, hoping that I could take a quick shower and borrow some of Frankie's clothes for a couple of days."
