Tabby Ryan slumped on the sofa, sipped wine and looked at the TV. She wagged her head and thought about her husband.
He had called earlier and told her the bad news: He would be gone longer than expected. His four-day business trip would be extended three more days.
Seven days, Tabby murmured to herself. Seven days...and what am I doing? Sitting here, getting soused on cheap wine, and watching the idiot box. Jeez...I might as well take a shower.
She went to the bathroom and stripped. The full-length mirror on the bathroom door caught her eye.
"Well, Mrs. Ryan," she spoke to her reflection, "we're twenty-three, been married for two years. How are we holding up?"
She examined herself in the mirror.
Her light brown hair fell in wispy waves past her shoulders, her blue-green eyes had a stormy look to them, her face was heart-shaped. She placed her hands under her breasts and cupped them. Still firm and upright, she said to herself, no sagging. She brushed a hand down over her tummy. Still flat, she thought. Her hips were curved and her legs were sleek. Her eyes were drawn to the little thatch of light brown pubic hair and the tiny slit below. She nodded in satisfaction. She turned sideways and examined her backside. Her back was straight, her rump curved, perky and smooth.
She wasn't hung-up about her body, but neither was she possessed of any false modesty. She knew she was attractive, and she accepted it. I've got a nice face and body, she thought, so what?
She critically examined her breasts. They were rounded, uplifted mounds of creamy smoothness--the shape and size of coconuts. The nipples jutted up rubbery and erect.
She palmed her breasts, slowly sliding her hands over the mounds. A fizzing tingling feeling radiated through them.
"Ummm," she murmured at the sensation. She ran her hands over her tits, pressing her palms on them and sliding her fingers over the nipples. "Ahh," she breathed out in pleasure.
She briskly stroked her titties, rubbing and kneading them. "Oh yes," she gasped at the sharp thumping feeling running through her breasts, down below her tummy and up to her throat. She licked her lips and swallowed.
She moved a hand down over her belly, down to her thighs. She slightly spread her legs and ran a hand down between them.
She stroked her cunny, sliding her hand up and down. Bolts of wet fire shot up her pussy. "Oh, ah, ooh," she panted in passion as she rubbed her yoni.
She slid a finger into her cunt and stroked the clit with her thumb. "Oh god, yes!" she gasped. She hunched and jerked and cried out as a mini-climax roared up and down her pussy.
She slowly ceased rubbing, and then she sighed. It felt good, she thought, but it's not...it's not the real thing. I want the real thing...a stiff cock, in my cunt--fucking me. Hubby's cock.
She let out a raspy chuckle. But the way I feel right now, she thought, any cock will do.
She wagged her head and stepped into the shower...
Tabby dressed casually, pulling on a pair of short cutoff jeans and a tee-shirt. She dispensed with panties and bra. Then she poured another glass of wine and sprawled on the sofa.
The phone buzzed and she answered it with a listless hello.
"How's my favorite neighbor?"
"Oh, hello Dena. Your favorite neighbor is okay, I guess."
"You sound down in the dumps."
"Oh, it's nothing. It's just...well, hubby called and told me he would be gone another three days. It's been four days already, and now--three more."
"Seven days. No wonder you're down. Well, I have a cure for you. It'll drive your blues away and perk you right up."
"What is it?"
"You'll see."
