Marina's workweek had been very trying and she was tired. Starting home all she could think about was how she was going to relax over the next couple of days. With her husband, Carlo being out of town on business and Sandra, her daughter expected to spend the weekend away with a friend's family, Marina had no plans and no commitments.
Even the weather forecast was to cooperate as a storm was already blowing in. So unless something unexpected came up Marina saw her self just catching up on some reading, maybe sleeping a little later and hoping that the world would simply pass her by for the weekend.
"Just one stop," Marina thought considering what all she needed from the market before going home. "A bottle of wine for sure and some candles," she continued, planning and adding to her list of necessities in case the storm should keep her indoors or knock the power out.
Inside the store, Marina spotted Silvano, a handsome neighborhood teenager who worked as a stock boy. There was little doubt in Marina's mind that Silvano had a crush on her. Every time she shopped there, he wouldn't be far away just looking her over and smiling mischievously. Marina considered it flattering that the young man would take such obvious pleasure in watching her.
Marina hadn't been shopping long when she heard the resonating 'Booms' of thunder. Hurrying to finish before she got caught in the storm, Marina cut a few items from her list, but she hadn't been quick enough. Leaving the shop she could see the heavy clouds laying in, feel the wind picking up and could smell the rain in the air. Looking to the distance Marina could see the foreboding skies, dark and ominous. Immediately she knew this storm would be severe and now wasn't so comfortable at the prospect of being alone.
Poor Marina could hardly manage things; her hands were filled with grocery packages, her eyes squinting against the elements, her high heels slipping under foot and her skirt swirled lasciviously about her knees. By the time, she made it to her car her blonde bangs were dripping in ringlets about her face and she sensed her make-up had at least partially washed away. "What a fright I must look," Marina thought, glad that she shouldn't be seeing anyone she knew.
Once back in the relative safety of her car Marina assessed the damage and immediately noticed how transparent her blouse had become once soaked through, her lace frilled bra showing quite clearly. Her skirt was not much better as the drenched fabric clung to her thighs with beads of water dripping down her legs. Slowly a chill crept through Marina making her realize that she needed to get out of these wet clothes and warm up as soon as possible.
The streets were clearing quickly with everyone making their way indoors so Marina made good time getting home. Once parked, she made her way again through the elements to her front door taking care not to fall. After opening the door and switching the light, it was obvious the power had already failed.
"Damn," she cursed, her first thought wondering if there would still be enough hot water for a soothing bath. With her arms still laden with packages, Marina swung a shapely hip to close the door behind her. Carefully now she navigated the dark house towards the kitchen with only the occasional lightening flash to illuminate her way.
Once Marina had put her groceries away, she poured herself a glass of wine and took a long swallow. "Ahhh," she breathed, exhaling some of her tension, feeling the sweet juice slightly tickling and warming her throat. The wine was so delicious and Marina needed such calming that she made quick work of the first glass then poured another.
"Candles, matches, wine and a bath," Marina thought, planning and gathering what she'd need upstairs. Now with everything in hand Marina began making her way through the dark interior towards the bath room feeling more at ease that everything was going to be alright.
Outside Marina could still hear the storm's fury, the thunder cracking, the wind howling and rattling the yard's tree limbs, the rain pelting the ground as heavy as hail. No longer concerned for herself Marina suddenly shuddered, wondering and hoping that Sandra was safe and out of the storm.
Of late Marina wasn't so sure she could manage or trust her daughter, didn't even know if she had a boy friend, or if she was still a virgin. Even as a child, Sandra had been headstrong, defiant, and now at 18 she was almost too much for Marina to handle. Sandra was becoming a woman but in her mother's mind she was still more a child. These were awkward times for the two of them, trying to forge a balance, the mother trying to help her daughter mature, the daughter wanting to do it her own way and in her own time.
"I'll call her," Marina thought before reconsidering. She knew Sandra needed some space, some time away and besides she was still chilled and needed to get out of her wet clothes. "Maybe later," Marina decided now carefully climbing the stairs so as not to slip in her wet heels.
Once in the darkened bathroom Marina set down her supplies before firing the first of two candles. In a few seconds, the little flames flickered under breath casting dancing shadows about the room. Now Marina could concentrate on removing her clothing. Although the coolness of her clothes had diminished since coming indoors their wet fabric still clung to her almost like a second skin. The sensation of having her clothes feeling so clingy, so plastered to her, that Marina thought it strangely erotic.
Beginning with her blouse Marina unfastened the buttons then pulled the top overhead. As she did so, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. For a time Marina studied herself before deciding she liked how she looked in the soft light. Although her hair was sloppy and her make-up smeared, Marina thought she looked seductive, sultry – the way she imagined herself looking after some hot sex.
"Marina?" she shamed herself, "such thoughts and to be alone," she continued while taking more wine.
Being 41 and having a teenage daughter, Marina wasn't at all displeased with her looks, or who she was. She liked her hair short as it was now it made her feel more carefree. She'd always liked her eyes, their sparkling green. She considered them her best facial feature, spicy and yet playful depending on her mood. "I still have the men looking," Marina thought, seeing her full breasts slightly over-flowing her bra, her mature shapely hips, and remembering how hungrily Silvano at looked at her in the grocery. True he was only a teenager, she conceded, but he was male nonetheless.
Now Marina turned her focus to her skirt, quickly working the button around her waist to finally shrug it off. Next came her heels then panty hose, which she carefully peeled down her legs before tossing them aside. Standing now in just her thin panties and bra, looking herself over, Marina once again thought of the young stock boy with the wondering eyes, how she'd caught him looking at her legs, how he smiled so saucily, grinning just a little at being caught.
Marina was by her own admission a highly sexed creature. She wasn't accustomed to going very long without an orgasmic release. Typically, Marina had marital relations a couple of times a week, but that was hardly enough for her especially considering the torrid fantasies she routinely entertained. To ultimately satisfy her sexual appetite it wasn't unusual for Marina to masturbate at least every other day and when her fantasies were running on high she would indulge herself daily.
Warmed some by her imaginings, Marina caressed her hands along her skin wondering if she could still hold her own with such a strong young man as Silvano, please him, and satisfy such youthful virility. She wasn't so sure. Granted she had the experience, the wiles, but did she have the stamina? Marina found the prospect, the fantasy exciting and could sense herself becoming aroused, her nipples tingling and slowly beginning to rise.
"Oh Marina," she said to herself, "you've had too much wine already."
Just then, after Marina collected her emotions and started to open the faucet to draw her bath she caught sound of a faint noise. She knew her house well and even with the storm still raging, believed the sound had come from within the house, maybe from down stairs. Perhaps Sandra had come home early, she thought. Now listening intently Marina focused her hearing beyond the confines of the bathroom, but after another minute or two heard nothing further.
While listening, Marina considered calling out to Sandra to make sure the noise she'd heard was she, but thought wiser of that idea just in case it wasn't. If it was Sandra, she would be up the stairs in a minute or two so Marina just waited, her pulse racing a bit, her mouth becoming dry.
As the minutes passed the silence and uncertainty continued. Marina thought back to how she'd seen the house earlier, was anything different, could someone have already been in the house before she came in?
"No," Marina answered her own thinking, "the door was locked when I got home." Marina thought harder trying to remember re-locking the door, but all she could see in her mind was having her hands full. "Stupid me," Marina whispered now remembering how she'd used her hip to push the door to and never returned to lock it. "Maybe it was just the wind," she comforted herself trying not to worry over nothing but a coincident.
Still in just her lingerie with only a robe thrown over, Marina made her way quietly down the hall so as not to let her presence know. If there was someone other than Sandra in the house, she sure didn't want to let on that she was home and alone.
At the top of the stairs, Marina listened again, hearing nothing but now looking into the living room below to see if anything appeared to be out of place. Within the darkness, she couldn't see much of anything, nothing appeared clearly out of sorts, and yet something seemed odd.
Once at the base of the stairs Marina began focusing her suspicions towards the door. As she neared, she could see a sliver of light shining through the hinge. Sure enough, the door hadn't closed all the way, it had blown open in the wind, what a relief she thought feeling herself draw in the nervous breath she'd been holding.
