Author's note: Chris, one of the main characters in this story, is a freshman in college, I am depicting him to be between 19 and 22 years of age. There is no under aged sex going on in this story. The use of the term “guys” or “boys” is not used in reference to persons under 18 years of age.
Your votes and feedback are greatly appreciated, along with constructive criticism.
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Another Friday evening and there I stood, looking out the window while washing dishes. This was all too typical anymore as I waited for my husband to get off of work and my son from college. It was a beautiful day outside, but of course I had no where to go and nothing to do but put these dishes away before I was to prepare dinner and repeat the chore all over again before the night was over with.
I began drying the glasses and putting them away when I heard my son’s car pull up into the driveway.
“Hey mom!” Bram walked in smiling at me with his normal upbeat mood. Carelessly, he dropped his gym bag on the kitchen table.
“Oh no you don’t. You take that thing back to your room.” I said pointing to the bag full of sweaty gym clothes and god knows what else. “We don’t want the rest of the house looking like that pig stye of yours.” I meant what I said, though smiling at him as if I were joking. It didn’t matter that he was a freshman in college to me. He would still listen.
The screen door opened a few moments later and another young man walked in. The door slammed behind him, startling him and the teenager winced.
“Who is this?” I asked Bram while looking at his friend, rather surprised at the company.
“Mom, this is my friend Chris. He is staying the night here so we can go to a basketball game tomorrow morning. You don’t remember me asking you over a week ago?” He asked with widened dark eyes.
I decided it best to bite my tongue. I was not in the mood for company and I didn’t remember anything of the sort. Furthermore, I didn’t know if the roast I had bought would be enough for four people, especially the way my husband ate.
I huffed a bit as I considered telling Bram that his friend needed to go home.
Glancing over at Chris, his eyes were cast down at the floor, then met my own for a fraction of a second. They were the warmest shade of golden brown. Large and round like a puppy dogs, accented with a spray of long, thick black lashes. A lock of his light brown hair fell over his eye and against his cheekbone as he lowered his head a bit and tore his gaze from mine. He was tall and slender, more lithe than muscular. The baggy pants he wore, paired with the black muscle shirt loaned beauty to his smooth sun kissed skin.
I found myself accidently starring at our guest’s crotch. Feeling rather ashamed, a rosy heat filled my cheeks.
“Of course I remember.” I lied to them. “I hope you like pot roast and potatoes, Chris.” I smiled at him, fearing that I was more of a predator than a sincere hostess. “Bram, you should take Chris downstairs and show him the entertainment center. Maybe you two can play some games and watch tv until your father gets home. By then dinner should be ready.” I added.
“Yeah, sounds good.” Bram started walking down the hallway with Chris tailing close behind him.
As the two were about to close the door leading to the downstairs den, I heard Chris whispering to Bram. “Hey...your mom is really pretty. She doesn’t look old enough...”
That is all I had caught before the door shut. I grinned like I had just won the lottery. For the rest of the time dinner was being prepared I was as light as a feather on my feet. The guy had flattered me so much that I felt as if I were floating on a cloud.
You see, compliments in this house usually don’t go beyond “That was good, can I have seconds?”
I busied myself slicing potatoes and onions while the roast simmered in the oven. Just as I pulled the roast out to dump the vegetables into the pan with it, the phone rang.
The caller ID showed that it was my husband’s cell phone.
“Oh great...not again.” I muttered.
“Hey Samantha, I’m not going to make it home for dinner again tonight. There’s a problem with the Brewster account that needs to be looked over immediately. I’ll be in later tonight, dear.” Jim said over the phone.
“Okay. I’ll save you some roast. See you later on.” I reluctantly responded, though that clearly wasn’t the response I had wanted to give him.
That happens at least three times a week now. I’m not completely stupid to the fact that he is having an affair. Numerous people have seen him out with some little blonde in high dollar restaurants on the nights that he is supposed to be at the office working late. It’s not unusual for him not to even come home until sunrise, claiming that he fell asleep in the office while working.
I called the guys upstairs as soon as dinner was done and had Bram set the table.
“Your dad is working late again, Bram, so don’t worry about putting a plate out for him. We’re just going to save him some roast.”