Sunday was Aunt Marnie's Laundry Day.
It had been a week since our impromptu "wrestling match" on her couch when I fulfilled a years-long fantasy with her. I didn't know when, or if ever, I would have another opportunity.
No vehicles in the drive or open garage when I arrived. The front door was open, so I let myself in.
"Anybody home?" I asked. No answer.
I could hear the dryer running as I approached the basement door, which was partially open. I pushed it open, and saw Marnie loading clothes into the washer. I watched her for a moment, wondering how to approach her after last week's encounter. I enjoyed it, and had no qualms about telling her so. She was as luscious as I had fantasized about. Everything had been perfect. I was sure it was still between us, also. I think she secretly feared her military officer husband, and her warning to me before we made love last week that "he would kill us both" was seared into my brain, and could be useful in future circumstances.
As I watched her, it was still hard to believe: I HAD the woman of my fantasy a week ago. I was replaying the moment when I was shocked back to reality. She took off her navy blue shorts and put them in the washer. Before my jaw could drop further, off came her red polo shirt, and into the wash. She stood there in her white bra and panties, waiting for the dryer to finish, so she could re-dress. Made perfect sense. She thought she was alone in the house, why not wash ALL the colors in the load?
When she turned to the side, I marveled at the engineering of her bra. How did it hold up such a heavy load? Her breasts were magnificent. Her DD cups were the envy of her friends and family, and had hurried along my puberty. At 40, she looked ten years younger. Athletic, and although her weight fluctuated, she never seemed to lose any in the chest. Here she was on display, and I needed to act before the dryer went off.
I was about three steps from the bottom, aided by the noise of the machines, when I caught her eye.
"Ohh...Sugar" she shrieked and shuddered. "You scared...me...to death."
"I was just enjoying the show," I replied.
She covered herself with her arms and hands. "You ...can't see me like this...please...no" She turned to open the dryer door.
"No...don't cover yourself" I demanded as I headed for the dryer. "I want you just like you are"
I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her away from the door. "All this shouldn't be covered up" I leered as I tightened my grip on her belly, and pulled her next to me. She looked as sensuous from behind and above as she did last week underneath me.
"Sugar... please...honey...let go of me." She pleaded as she pulled on my hands. "Alex will be back any minute"
"Didn't he tell you last week he wouldn't see you for two weeks? That's before he tried to screw you at the front door as he left", I queried.
"Please let go of me. This isn't right, Sugar" she responded, trying to break my tightening grip on her midriff.
"What isn't right", I scolded, "is you lying to me". I ran my hands up her midsection, crossed them, and rested each on its opposite bosom, so I could restrain her as well as cop a feel of those legendary mammaries.
"Now, the truth this time" I began, "where is the kid?"
"He's...he's at a game", she stammered. "Won't be back until bedtime...please...let me go".
"Tell you what", I offered, "we'"ll have another contest."
"No...please...no", Marnie interrupted, remembering how I stacked the deck last week and easily overpowered her into submission and faux rape.
"If you can get away from me and make it to the stairs; what is it, 25 feet, I'll leave you alone today, promise. If not, well, that comfy bed is right over there, and we've got all afternoon to use it" The basement had a couch, bed and ping pong table along with the laundry in its 400 square feet.
"What choice do I have?" She questioned.
""We can try the bed out right now" I answered.
"Damn you..." she grunted. She grabbed my wrists.
My strategy was the same as last week: Toy with her, enjoy her struggle, tire her out, and move in for the kill.
She didn't disappoint. She pulled, twisted, and kicked for a while until I released her; but not before pulling down the straps of her bra. The bra sagged, nearly spilling out its treasures. She pulled the straps back on, jiggling those treasures as she did.
She moved left, I stepped right. Then the opposite. She stood facing me, already laboring to breathe. "It's not fair" she shouted... I began to stalk her. She backpedaled, then surge at me, raising both arms above her head to strike, I grabbed her wrists, spun her around, and applied a soft Full Nelson hold.
