"Oh darn!" Marni exclaimed when she flipped the switch to the garbage disposal and nothing happened. She turned to her twelve-year-old daughter, Jenny who sat at the breakfast table, picking at her waffle. "The disposal's busted, Jen," she said.
Jenny looked up from her mangled breakfast and shrugged. "Call Dad. He fixes everything."
Marni nodded as she turned to pull out the eggshells she'd just thrown in to put them in the wastebasket. Her body had tensed at Jenny's mention of Tim, and a pulsing started between her legs as she remembered what happened last time he'd had come to do work in the house...
She looked over at Jenny who had just finished her cereal and was getting up from the table. Jenny handed her the plate with its syrupy remains. "Did you take your typewriter off the coffee table like I asked?"
"No, Mom. I forgot. I'll do it when I get home."
Marni sighed. "All right. You know Dad and I will get you a computer if you want."
"No thanks, Mom. I like my ancient typewriter."
"Ancient! I used that typewriter when I was your age. I'm not that old!"
"You're from the 80s, Mom. You're old."
Marni chuckled, grateful for an intelligent, witty daughter who did not give in to technological advancement. "Do you have your ballet slippers with you?"
"Miss Jones is sick, remember? I'm coming home on the bus."
Marni smiled and shook her head. "Sorry, sweetie," she answered. "I keep forgetting." She leaned over and kissed her daughter on the cheek. "Have a good day, okay?"
"You too, Mom." Jenny picked up her backpack. She headed toward the door. "And please don't fight with Dad like you guys always do."
Marni gave her daughter a sympathetic look. "I'll try. You know it has nothing to do with you, don't you? We just don't get along."
Jenny looked down. "Yeah. Bye."
"I love you," Marni called just before she disappeared out the door. Marni turned and rubbed her eyes briefly before she began to wash the breakfast things. She felt sad for her daughter who kept hoping her parents would get back together. Truthfully, she and Tim wanted to. They'd been high school sweethearts who'd never imagined anyone else for each other.
But something had happened. Maybe the pressure of Tim's plumbing business. They'd begun fighting. They'd gone from best friends to oil and water in less than a year.
There was one are of life, however, where they were always compatible. They were each other's type. Marni loved Tim's muscular body and Tim loved Marni's abundant breasts. In spite of herself, Marni smiled. Her body heated as she remembered when Tim had come over to show Marni how to drain the hot water heater. Tim had always been brawny and good-looking and was wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans. He knew she always loved him in those simple things and before they knew it, Marni had gone onto her knees, unzipping his jeans, releasing his swollen veined shaft. He moaned as she rubbed his erection between her generous tits. Then, right there in the laundry room, he'd lifted Marni onto the washing machine, lifted up her skirt and yanked down her panties to feast on her dripping pink musk, first with his tongue and then with his cock.
Marni finished washing their breakfast things and went right for the phone.
Tim pulled into the driveway of their craftsman's cottage around two o'clock. Marni heard the engine from upstairs and went down to the front door. She opened it and caught her breath. Every time she saw Tim, from when they were sixteen, she felt as if the Fates were smiling on her. She merely had to gaze on Tim's broad shoulders, muscular chest and arms, and her body ripened, stirring and moistening in secret places. Marni tried not to stare, but she always had. Tim had deliciously soft-looking brown hair, short around the sides, a little longer on top, with great sideburns.
And he'd worn his t-shirt and jeans. The devil!
The appreciation was mutual, Marni could see, by the way Tim grinned back at her, his green eyes raking over her blond hair and ample breasts whose soft white flesh spilled out the armholes of her tank top. Tim even always liked her hips and thighs, which she, herself, felt were a bit too generous. "Good day, Ma'am," he said. "You got a sink that needs fixing?"
Marni stood aside to let him in. "Yes," she said, playing along. "This way." She closed the front door behind them and led Tim to the kitchen. She gestured to the sink. "It was working fine until this morning," she told him. "Then it just went dead."
"That happens." He put a large hand down the disposal.