A Work in Progress Ep. 02

Episode II:

We Share Everything

Greg wandered nonchalantly into the bar at the Hilton. At least he intended for it to be nonchalantly. His heart was pounding. The place had only just started to fill up but wasn't packed yet so he was able to easily grab a seat at the end of the bar with a good view of the whole of the room. Rhonda was supposed to come down ten minutes later and he didn't want to miss seeing her come in.

The outfit he'd put together for her was what he'd come to think of as 'business, slut casual' in style and he couldn't wait to see what kind of reactions it got. She was still halfheartedly predicting that she wouldn't get any bites when she trolled the bar but they both knew she was full of shit.

She'd been more confident in her appearance in the last six or seven days than she'd been, maybe even before having a kid. In fact, a couple of days previous, Rhonda had gone so far as to show up at his work unexpectedly to deliver him lunch wearing a skimpy outfit of her own concoction.

She'd come into the office trailer wearing jean shorts that weren't quite short-shorts but damn close and tight as hell. They hugged her round ass and completely revealed her little, shapely legs with their full thighs. The denim was so tight in fact, Greg couldn't decide if there was a slight hint of camel toe or if it was just his imagination running away with him. She had flat, strappy sandals on her cute feet and her dark hair was in a careless bun revealing the delicate curve of her sexy neck.

It was the shirt though, that was what put the ensemble totally over the top.

It was a pink, flowery print number with a wide elastic band portion around the middle, almost like an old tube-top but positioned below the breasts. Barely a quarter inch of midriff was showing, but absolutely nobody was looking there. Above the wide elastic, those E cup jugs were spilling over, contained only by the thin, slightly ruffled material of the shirt. The top wasn't really that low cut, but some cleavage was definitely visible. A smaller, stretchy band on top swooped down in a gentle arc from puffy short sleeves on her shoulders.

Rhonda's heavy tits were bouncing and swinging all over the place as she strolled through the room and her nipples, (twice as big as pencil erasers and just as hard) were impossible not to notice. She'd clearly neglected to wear any of her expensive and ruggedly supportive bras. It was the first time Greg could remember her going out in public without one since she'd had their daughter ten years earlier.

All work in the little construction office trailer ceased. Every one of the guys had their mouths opened and Greg thought he heard Tonya, their assistant, and an out and proud lesbian, ask someone on the phone to repeat themselves as she struggled to tear her eyes away from his wife's figure.

Max, Greg's partner and co-owner of the company, was the first to speak to Rhonda.

"Hey Ro. You're looking, ah, well." he'd said.

"Hi Max. Thanks. I feel good." she responded.

"I brought you two a couple sandwiches from Benny's." she went on. "Sorry I didn't bring enough for everybody but I didn't know you had so many people slaving away for you guys in here these days."

She looked around the room and many sets of eyes, that were caught in the process of wandering over her body, desperately attempted to gain altitude. Several of them failed and simply went somewhere else. Most of the boys seemed like they were trying to remember what they'd been doing before Rhonda had come in.

"That's okay. We get everybody pizza on Mondays." Max replied, cheerily.

"Yeah," Greg chimed in, "but I for one, would take a roast beef from Benny's over pizza, any day of the week."

"Amen to that, brother." Max added, as he stepped around his desk to take the wrapped sandwich Rhonda was offering him from the bag.

She approached Greg's workspace with the other and as she set it down, she leaned way over his desk to give him a quick kiss. Before their lips met, he caught a glorious vision of the valley between her breasts closing as she squeezed them together between her forearms.

While they kissed, it occurred to him that the rest of the office was probably getting the kind of view of his wife's ass that might not be technically legal in all fifty states.

When their lips parted and she straightened back up, Greg got the equally fascinating spectacle of the valley opening back up again and he heard Tonya asking the hapless person on the phone to repeat themselves, yet again.

"Thanks, babe." he said.

"Yeah thanks," Max began, in an almost dreamy voice, "and it's really nice to see you again."

"Awe. You too, Max." she said sweetly, as she smiled up at him.

At six foot one, Greg's business partner towered over Rhonda, whose flat shoes added almost no height to her five foot frame. For the first time ever, Greg had a brief, imagined scene in his head, of the big guy manhandling his little, curvy wife's naked body around in some random hotel room somewhere.

Greg was shocked with himself. Not so much for having dreamed up the scene, but for how quickly the thought was making his cock strain against his pants. He was glad there was a desk between him and the rest of the small office.

Then he did something else he was pretty sure he'd never done before; he stole a glance at Max's crotch.

He discovered that, either the man was having a similar fantasy about Rhonda, or he was hiding another roast beef sandwich in the front of his chinos. Greg then glanced at his wife and saw that she had noticed Max's condition as well.

Max, probably becoming aware of the visibility of things himself, looked at the foil wrapped sub in his hand as if he didn't know how it had gotten there. He excused himself, mumbling something about a working lunch and he retreated to the cover of his own desk.

Rhonda looked at her husband with an unmistakable expression of pride on her pretty face.

"So, another late night, tonight?" she inquired.

"Yeah," Greg started, "trying to catch up in advance for our trip so I'm not so far behind when I get back."

"Alright, baby. I'm looking forward to it. Love you."

And with that she turned, causing all the eyes that had gravitated back to her body, to divert to safer territory again. As she moved for the door, there was a smattering of bye's and a see you later or two from the boys. The only person who directly talked to her while she was on her way out was Tonya, who didn't seem to be trying as hard as the others to hide her lecherous gaze.

Rhonda gave the woman a little wave and said, "Nice to see you."

"Oh, it was nice to see you too." she replied boldly, dragging out the words and nodding her head slightly.

Steve, one of the temporary safety foremen, stifled a snicker.

"Okay. Everybody back to work. Pizzas will be here soon." Greg announced, sternly to the office at large after the door closed behind his wife's voluptuous ass.

He found himself vaguely wondering if Rhonda's little unplanned visit might have actually cost the fledgling company to lose some money. If so, the tingle in his balls at the memory of it made him feel like it had been worth it.

No one else had said a word about the incident except for, again, Tonya. A few minutes after everyone had finished lunch, while she was dropping a roll of plans on Greg's desk that he'd requested, she spoke to him conspiratorially.

"You know boss, now that I've seen your wife, I gotta tell ya, if I were you, I'd be spending more time at home."

"I'm workin' on it." he replied, with a wink.

His reverie was broken when Rhonda finally entered the hotel bar.

She was wearing a navy, pinstripe skirt suit that ended somewhat higher above the knee then what most HR departments would probably approve of. Nude stockings covered her legs that Greg knew were thigh-highs whose lacy tops would be just visible when Rhonda sat down.

The jacket had a single button that she wasn't currently using and her shirt was an ivory colored, silk button up. While the button on the sport coat had the night off, the buttons on the shirt were working overtime trying to rain in breasts that were a good deal larger than what the garment had been designed for. The fabric was so puckered between her impressive bosom it seemed in danger of tearing. The exact shape and size of the tits themselves was obscured by the jacket but Greg knew that wasn't going to be the case forever.

Greg also knew that other than the tallest, stiletto heels that Rhonda felt comfortable walking in, she wore nothing else. No panties. No bra. This secret was probably not going to stay as such forever either and his balls tingled.

Rhonda made a quick survey of the room, only locking eyes with him briefly, and then headed for the middle of the bar. Greg's heart skipped a beat and he began to develop a partial erection. He was finding that the anticipation was electric.

The half-full bar didn't go silent with her arrival the way his office had earlier in the week, but several conversations stopped as many eyes followed Rhonda's progress. The closest to Greg of these suspended conversations was at the corner of the U shaped bar itself, near the end where he sat.

Two blond guys, who looked a little like gym rats and were clearly blue-collar, judging by their jeans and t-shirts, had sat down only a minute or two before his wife showed up. They'd been there just long enough to have ordered and received a pair of bottles. One of them looked to be around thirty and the other couldn't have been more than twenty-five years old.

Greg, spying on the rest of the space over the top of his notebook computer, felt that they looked similar to one another and he wondered if they were related.

Their talk was initially about the crane safety class that they were attending in one of the hotel conference rooms that week and had moved quickly to their plans for the evening when one of them, the younger one, spotted the vision that was Greg's wife, walking through the bar.

The older of the two had been in mid-sentence.

"Maybe we'll call up old,"

He stopped when the other grabbed a handful of his shirt and pointed with his forehead toward Rhonda, who was pulling up to a stool in the middle of the counter.

"That is The hottest, fucking milf, I've ever seen in real life." the young guy said, just loud enough that Greg could make it out.

Of course he wouldn't have argued the point with the dude and Greg wondered if his wife had heard him as well.

"Forget what I was saying, Joe." the older one said.

He slid out of his stool and moved a few feet closer to the beautiful, new arrival and addressed her with a voice that was casual and confident, in equal measure.

"Please, ma'am, it would make my night if I could buy you your first drink on this fine and pleasant evening. And be warned, if you say no, my dignity might be damaged beyond repair, so please say yes and spare me the pain of your rejection."

It occurred to Greg that if the guy had been wearing a hat, he probably would have it crumbled in his fist and pressed to his heart at this point. He noticed the man's companion roll his eyes while taking a swig of his beer.

Rhonda gave the one who'd spoken to her a coy, little smile before responding.

"Does that old-school, 'I'm a chivalrous gentleman,' act actually work on any women, like ever?"

The guy nodded his head proudly when he answered.

"A surprisingly high number of times, I'll have you know."

Rhonda reacted with a laugh that was the sexiest example of such that Greg had ever heard come from her mouth. Man and wife locked eyes again for the briefest second. He instantly looked down to his laptop, in case the other men looked to where she had glanced.

The screen was displaying a random page from a contract for a job that his company had completed the year before. Greg had no idea what words were on the screen; he was just using the device like detectives in old movies used newspapers.

"Well, why not?" Rhonda said to the long winded fellow.

"What can I get you?" the utterly forgettable bartender asked her.

The poor girl had overheard the exchange and was at the ready. Greg almost felt sorry for her. She was of an age with the two guys who were leering at the older Rhonda, and Greg had noticed that the one who'd stayed in his seat, Joe, had been looking the server out up and down, not two minutes before. Now though, his wife's raw sensuality and provocative outfit had effectively eclipsed the other female.

The bartender might as well have been a vending machine.

Rhonda ordered a Mojito, of course, and her would-be suitor added, "Top shelf." to the request.

While they waited for her drink, introductions were made. Sir Galahad's name was Jack and Joe was, in fact, his little brother, though neither man was small.

Several minutes of polite chit-chat revealed that the older one was twenty-eight and the younger, twenty-five. A full ten years Rhonda's junior. The guys were in town for a safety training class their company had sent them to and Rhonda told them that she was passing through on her way back home.

Jack, the more talkative one, eventually commented on the ring she wore.

"Oh," she began, while toying with the wedding band with the fingers of her other hand, "my husband is a hundred miles away still. I stopped here for the night, so I could have one more evening on my own."

At this, the brothers exchanged glances with each other. The expressions on their faces during this would have been more appropriate on ten year old boys who'd just stumbled onto an unguarded cache of fireworks.

Jack, who'd been standing since the conversation began, took the opportunity to sit on the stool immediately to Rhonda's left and promptly, Joe slid from his perch and moved over to take the one on her right.

Well, this is interesting, Greg thought to himself as he looked back down to his meaningless contract.

He fired off a quick text to his wife.

[See? Not even 5 mins and you've already got more attention than you can handle]

On cue, her phone obediently vibrated and she reached into the inner pocket of her jacket to retrieve it. Joe must've gotten a tantalizing glimpse of the contents of Rhonda's coat during this maneuver because his eyes went as round as saucers for a second.

"Ah, speak of the devil." she said with a ting of indigence.

She could be quite the little actress when she wanted to be, Greg observed.

"It's him. Checking up on me. Hold on a sec, fellas."

She revolved her stool around to read and then respond to the message, away from their eye lines. Greg stared intently at the out of date document on his computer.

Shortly, she turned back around and asked the boys how they were enjoying their stay.

While they gave answers along the lines of, "getting more interesting now," Greg's phone silently lit up with her reply.

[Who says i can't handle it?]

Greg inadvertently guffawed, accidentally drawing mild scrutiny from others at the bar.

Without looking up, he moved his eyes directly from his phone, which was out of sight of the trio, to his laptop and he began making completely ineffectual keystrokes on it. He continued this until he felt and heard the others' attention move back to one another, as their drinks were replenished.

"So, you seem like you enjoy getting away from the mister?" Joe asked.

"It's nice sometimes. He's alright, but sometimes he gets a little worn out." Rhonda answered.

"Oh?" Jack, this time.

"Well," she began, smiling indulgently, "I guess to be fair, I'm the one who wears him out. I'm, ah, how should I put it? Energetic, if you know what I mean?"

Jack and Joe both raised their eyebrows in a way that made it impossible not to notice that they were brothers. They almost looked like twins at that moment.

Wow, Greg thought to himself, she's not wasting any time.

In a respectable show of restraint, the guys managed to change the subject to her work. She told the truth about being in education but lied about where.

"I never had a teacher that looked like you." Joe observed, sounding like a wide eyed and innocent school kid in the process.

Rhonda gave her coy and sexy smile again before addressing both of them with a pointed question.

"Now, which one of you boys is hitting on me?"

She looked back and forth between them before adding, "It's hard for me to tell what your intentions are."

The two men smiled and it was Jack's turn to answer.

"Well, gorgeous, me and my little brother here are closer than most, I think. We share everything, if we can, and when we can, if You know what I mean."

Joe agreed, tipping his beer at his sibling.

"Is that so?" she asked, her smile now broad and knowing. "And what if you can't share?"

"Oh, darling. You wouldn't do that to us, would you? You wouldn't want to be responsible for splitting up family members. You seem far too, ah, accommodating for that." Jack declared.

Rhonda favored them with her sultry laugh again before responding.

"Speaking of separating family members, I see you have a ring also?"

"Ah, yes," Jack started, manipulating his wedding band similarly to how she had her own, "she's a few hundred miles away, and whenever she's game, I share her with Joe too."

Joe tipped his bottle a second time.

"Oh, lucky girl." Rhonda stated.

"She doesn't have to be the only one." Jack shot back with a wicked grin.

The men had seemed to close in tighter on either side of Greg's wife during this exchange and he wondered what their hands were up to, as they were below the level of the bar. Greg had a theory of course, which was quickly confirmed when Rhonda's eyes grew first wide and then seemed to melt into a dreamy, half-lidded state. Additionally, Jack was looking very pleased with himself.

"How forward of you, sir." Rhonda breathed.

It had been almost inaudible to Greg but he'd easily caught the husky note of arousal in her voice. In spite of her words, she clearly wasn't offended.

"You should check out what I found, little bro. It seems this lady has come prepared." Jack said, barely loud enough for Greg to make out.

Joe looked around the bar, apparently checking for witnesses, before he adjusted his position even closer to Rhonda. After only a moment, he looked back at her surprised.

"No panties!" he exclaimed, happily.

The younger brother hadn't been as discreet as Jack. This time, Greg wasn't the only one who'd overheard. The invisible bartender, for one, shook her head in annoyance before returning to what she was doing.

While he watched two strangers finger his wife in public, Greg found that the semi-hard boner he'd been sporting since she had arrived was now completely rigid.

Rhonda made a show of feeling warm, fanning herself, and said something about it getting hot in the room, to which the brothers both snickered. They gave her some space as she made to remove her jacket.

Jack, ever the gentleman, assisted her. Once it was off, the overworked, sleeveless shirt struggled to contain the heavy swell of her breasts. Her rack was framed by the gentle roundness of her bare upper arms and was intoxicating to behold. Her nipples, standing out in defiance of her comment on the temperature, looked hard enough to perhaps be dangerous to eyeballs and other soft flesh.

The somewhat expensive blouse probably wasn't intended to be patently sexy but in too small of a size and without a bra underneath, it had overshot alluring and landed squarely on indecent. The boys' reaction to its revelation was palpable in the air of the bar. They'd all but totally lost their cool at this point. They openly ogled Rhonda appreciatively.

The bartender only scowled, after she'd delivered a drink to a guy across the U shaped counter from Greg who didn't even notice that it had arrived. He was just as transfixed as the brothers.