Jenna bent over the sink, scrubbing each dish as past the point of cleanliness and then some. Scraping away at her guilt. It had been almost a week since she'd gotten herself off on this same exact counter with the gentle coaching of her sister's husband, Tucker.
So far she'd managed to avoid coming back to this place....until now. That orgasm was the first she'd ever had, but it was more than that. With it she'd released the pent up frustration from her failed, unsatisfying marriage, feelings of guilt for not having been able to make it work, the fear that she'd never find anything better.
In other words, it was good fucking orgasm. That fact that her brother-in-law had essentially coached her through it, guiding her, watching her, was not incidental. He hadn't touched her, but his participation had felt central. It was more intimate than anything she'd ever done with her ex-husband.
She'd been focused on her own pleasure, but she'd noticed the bulge in his pants grow has he watched her play with her nipples and pussy, the way his his hand rubbed against it as his eyes wandered over her body.
She thought about the way it felt to have him watching her so intently while she touched herself when she went back to her room that night and got herself off one more time. She'd been getting herself off thinking about it ever since.
She could barely look her sister in the face when they all had dinner tonight. She couldn't even look in Tucker's direction. It was so bad she'd gotten up to excuse herself from dessert early to come to the kitchen and do these dishes. Make herself useful, repent for her sins, but also to be alone with her thoughts for a little bit. It was exhausting spending so much time ensuring her face didn't reflect what was on her mind.
She was so caught up in the thought that she didn't notice him walk up next to her at the sink. "Think you got that one clean enough, Jenn?" he teased her.
"Cleanliness, godliness....something like that is what I'm going for. How am I doing?" Caught off guard, she spoke softly, betraying that she wasn't feeling as confident as the words suggested. She may have been speaking to him, but her body stayed squarely facing the sink, holding onto the sponge like her life depended on it.
"You get an A plus in my book," he leaned into her. "Cleanest dishes this house has seen in a long time. Seems like it's taking a lot of energy, though. You wana talk about it?"
"Honestly?" she asked. "I'm so fucking confused about what happened last week. I can't stop thinking about it. My marriage just ended, I have no business getting in the middle of yours..." Her voice shook a little and she stopped, pulling a soapy hand up to her forehead.
He stood up from his lean on the counter and walked up behind her slowly. He put one hand on each side of her and leaned in so she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. She refused to look at him, but he was impossible to ignore in this position. How little power she had to move away, and how aware her body was of his. She didn't want to want him so badly. But she couldn't help it. The chemistry was insane.
"I do not want you to feel guilty about any of this, you hear me? A — you did nothing wrong, and B — you have enough on your mind without worrying about my and Jessica's marriage. Our sorry set of problems existed before you played with your pretty little tits on our kitchen counter, and they will continue afterwards. That, my dear, is what it means to be married."
