A Work in Progress Ep. 03

Episode III: Surprise Guests

Rhonda reconsidered her choice of outfit for the millionth time of the morning. She was planning on at least one costume change at some point after her guests arrived, but she desperately wanted to overwhelm their defenses as much as possible right when she opened the door.

In spite of her husband, Greg's, confidence in the crazy plan he'd cooked up, she was more than a little nervous about it. He was one-hundred percent certain that the guys he was sending to the house, on the premise of moving her raised garden and taking care of some other odd jobs, would be into a thirty-five year old, out of shape teacher and mother.

Those weren't his words, of course. But that was certainly her self image. As Rhonda looked herself up and down in her full length mirror, she wished she could see what Greg saw.

In truth, she'd felt more confident in her appearance in the last several weeks than she had, maybe, ever before. The kinky games they had been playing for the last month or so, had her feeling pretty hot-to-trot and awfully horny. Horny, almost all the time.

In fact, she'd taken to stuffing extra panties in her purse due to her near constant wetness. Anything could set her off. Two days before, she'd driven past a pair of guys in hardhats jack hammering a section of sidewalk, and she found herself imagining what it would be like if they were taking turns jack hammering her in the back of her SUV.

"Oh crap." she'd said.

She was alone in her car and the daydream caused a little gush of vaginal fluid to soak her third pair of undies for the day. Basically, she was leaky.

As summer wore on and grew hotter, she reminded herself more and more of a cat in heat. Ass up, head down, and yowling for it all the time. All she could think about was getting fucked.

She sincerely hoped she would be able to concentrate on her job when school started back up in a few weeks. Additionally, their ten year old daughter would be back from camp soon and Rhonda was concerned that the girl might notice her mother behaving strangely.

She decided to cross those bridges when she came to them.

The boys would be arriving soon so she finally, again, decided to go bold with the tank-top and panties. She was going to answer the door half dressed, in her actual pajamas and apologize for oversleeping. She was going to be running her fingers through her dark mop of, hopefully sexy, bedhead hair. The gray tank was tighter on her belly than what she would have liked but it was indecently form fitting on her E cups. She wasn't wearing a bra, of course. And really who, outside of TV shows, wore one to bed anyway? The undies were the least fancy pair of boy shorts she could find, but they were tight and vibrant red.

She was planning to invite her guests in and lead them to the kitchen where she would offer them beverages before going to put on something 'more appropriate,' which of course, would only be ever so slightly more appropriate, if at all.

She figured that by that point, she would be able to tell if she was making a fool of herself or not.

To Rhonda, this was a very different scenario than their hotel bar game.

Then, the plan had been for her to wait for a man, or men, as the case had been, to approach her, but this morning she was to be the aggressor. Greg was sending the two eighteen year old, summer job boys from his construction company over, with absolutely no expectations of getting lucky. They were fully expecting to be gardening and maybe carrying heavy things.

Greg reassured her that the boys were from another school district and hadn't been students of hers at any point in the past. She'd been teaching long enough for many of her students to have passed into legal adulthood.

He'd also made sure to mention that these guys were off to distant colleges in just a couple weeks time. And, it was to be their last day with the company, so Greg felt that their opportunities to talk about anything they saw or did at the boss' house would be slim.

Rhonda was still resistant. It was her belief that eighteen year old boys want to screw young, in shape cheerleaders. She also pointed out that in their previous little game, she'd been free to choose the person or persons she was going to have sex with.

This time, she was signing up to fuck two people before actually meeting them.

He simply reminded her that she'd promised to do anything he told her to do to make up for her out-of-town transgression. And promise, she had.

Greg had made it clear. What he wanted her to do was make the boys cum. She was to get at least one load per boy, although more than one would certainly be acceptable. They could cum on her or in her, the choice was hers, as was the strategy she employed to seduce them.

Greg wouldn't be picking her outfits or anything this time. Her husband's only involvement, beyond dispatching the boys to 'help' Rhonda, was watching the action on several wireless cameras he'd hidden.

He'd ordered some for his office trailer and equipment yard and decided that they could use a little testing at his house before installing them at work.

As she considered the pouch of her belly that was all too easy to see in her tank-top, she almost changed her mind about the outfit again, but then her phone rang.

"Don't change again. You look fantastic!" Greg said when she answered it.

"What? How did you... oh, the damn cameras. I don't look fantastic. I look tubby. I look like a tubby woman approaching middle aged." she responded, gloomily.

"Jesus, honey. If I'd run into you when I was a teenager I would've fucked you silly in an instant." he assured her.

"Yes, but I think it's evident that you're a perverted, sexual deviant. I'm going to change to something that hides my"

"No you're not. I see on Camera 2 that they're about to knock on the front door."

When she heard the repeated clack of the knocker, her stomach flipped like there was a whole herd of butterflies crashing around in it.

"Shit!" she barked.

Greg only laughed and broke the connection.

When she reached the front door, she took a deep breath with her hand on the knob before opening it. Once she did, she got her first look at the boys and the boys got their first look at her.

All parties involved were shocked.

The boys were probably shocked because they were expecting to be met by their fully clothed employer's wife. Instead, the five foot tall, curvy milf, with huge tits, was wearing hardly anything. Just a skin-tight tank-top and little red panties.

Rhonda was shocked because there were Four boys at the door, instead of the promised two.

One of the young men, a tall, dark haired, athletic looking guy, smiled broadly and was the first to speak.

"Are we early? I'm sorry, Mrs. ah..."

"Ah, Rhonda. You can just call me, Rhonda." she said.

"I should apologize to you guys. I woke up late and I'm a mess. I'm sorry." she went on.

She looked down at herself while she gave them her prepared spiel and noticed that her nerves may have worked in her favor. It looked as if her abnormally large nipples were in danger of poking holes in the material of her shirt. If there was any possibility that these kids were going to find her alluring, this little detail wasn't going to hurt her chances, she figured.

"So I didn't know that there were going to be four of you. My husband mentioned a Steve and a Kip."

Two of the guys identified themselves as the accused.

Kip was a shorter, dark haired boy, with a military style, buzz cut and a serious expression on his face. Steve was a bit taller, maybe five foot ten, and the opposite of Kip in at least a couple of ways.

His hair was a blond, shaggy mane that was nearly to his shoulders and he wore a grin that Rhonda couldn't divine the meaning of. He was either, A: excited about her lack of clothing or, B: he was embarrassed for her and didn't know how to act.

Rhonda found herself dreadfully worried that it was the latter.

On the other hand, the tall one, who'd been the first to speak, never took his eyes away from Rhonda and never let his smile fade. She'd quickly decided, and with some relief, that his gaze was definitely appreciative.

"Hi, Rhonda. I'm Brody." he said, stepping forward and offering his hand before continuing to speak.

"Kip said that his boss, ah, your husband, told them to bring a couple more strong backs to help you out."

"Did he?" Rhonda asked lightly, still grasping the boy's big hand. "He's so thoughtful."

The tricky bastard, she added silently to herself.

Now that she was within reach of Brody, she noticed that he was actually quite tall. At least six and a half feet, perhaps. Solidly built, blue eyed and broad shouldered. The way he didn't apparently feel the need to hide how thoroughly he was checking out her nearly naked body didn't offend her. In fact, it was causing her to start getting wet for the first time of the day. She realized that if she wasn't careful, this boy might make her downright leaky soon.

In another case of opposite traits, the fourth kid was a quiet, mousy fellow that Brody introduced as Alex. She had a hard time believing that this one was over eighteen. He couldn't have been more than three or four inches taller than Rhonda herself. And the kid was the only one of the quartet who was looking anywhere but at her. He seemed very determined, in fact, to keep his eyes averted.

The poor, little guy looked terrified, Rhonda decided. And then she wondered if she should card him.

"Well, I guess you guys better come in and make yourselves comfortable while I get myself together." she said to the group, while she stepped aside.

Once the boys had all filed past her, she glared up at the camera that she knew was hidden near the door, and surreptitiously gave it the finger.

Miles away, Greg laughed at the image on his laptop of Rhonda flying the bird in his honor.

Besides engineering the two surprise guests for her, he'd also engineered himself a day out of the office. He'd told Max, his partner, that he was going out to recon three far flung, prospective job sites, and he would be out in his pickup all day.

In reality, Greg had already scoped out the locations on the Sunday before just so he could use this excuse. He was in a coffee shop with WiFi, sitting with his back to the wall, an earbud in, enjoying the opening scenes of the live, homemade sex show that his wife was about to star in.

Greg switched cameras so that he could follow the group as they moved to the kitchen. He had another bout of giggles when he found himself literally rubbing his hands together, like some villain in an old, silent movie.

It was lucky for him that the coffee shop was nearly empty, he reflected.

Back at the house Rhonda invited the boys to sit at the island and asked if any of them wanted coffee or anything.

The stools they took faced the kitchen proper and her plan was for the boys to have plenty of quality time to look her over while she prepared some beverages.

Brody ended up being the only one who opted to have something to drink. He asked if she had any orange juice.

When Rhonda retrieved the carton from the bottom shelf of the fridge, she made sure to bend at the waist instead of the knees, and was rewarded with the sound of one of her guests, she had no idea which, sharply intaking their breath.

She looked back to the boys to see which of them were paying attention and caught all of them.

Kip and Steve both looked away in a respectable fraction of a second, Alex was slower to respond, perhaps too stunned by what he'd just witnessed, but Brody kept staring with a knowing grin on his face. His expression seemed to say, 'I know what you're trying to do, lady, and it's gonna fuckin' work.'

"So," she began, "I know Steve and Kip are both eighteen, graduated and going to college soon, but what about you two? What's your stories?"

She was subtly trying to confirm that everyone present was legally an adult. She couldn't be sure what Greg was thinking these days.

"Same for us, ma'am." Brody said.

"Please call me Rhonda. Ma'am makes me feel even older than I already am."

"Oh come on," he responded, "you've gotta be what, ten years younger than your husband? Kip said his boss was like, mid-thirties."

"Awe. What a smooth talker you are. I bet you did okay with the girls in your high school." Rhonda said, while she poured his glass of OJ.

"Yeah, he did." chimed in Steve. "Brody here was the star center on the basketball team, too. I don't even know why we're friends; dude kinda makes me sick."

"Shut up." Brody responded.

The boys all snickered while Brody easily reached around Alex, to ruffle Steve's already unruly hair.

Something about the childlike interaction between the young men made Rhonda feel momentarily ridiculous, standing there in her underwear, holding a glass of orange juice.

Thankfully though, as she drew closer to them, Brody looked back to her and raised one brow. He took up right where he'd left off, very obviously removing what little clothing she wore with his clear, blue eyes.

She felt herself generating more moisture down below. At this rate, she was going to need to make a costume change soon or risk becoming noticeably wet. Or at least, noticeably wet Prematurely.

She slid the drink toward Brody and said something about going to make herself 'more decent.' While she walked out of the room, she could swear she felt the heat of the young men's eyes on her ass cheeks.

Once she'd turned the corner into the hall, she heard what sounded like all of the boys releasing a held breath simultaneously. She also barely picked up one of them saying, "Damn!" all drug out, like it was two syllables. "Daaa,ummm."

She smiled and made a mental note to pay special attention to what was being said at that moment later, when she could watch the video from the hidden cameras later.

It was time for phase two of Rhonda's plan to seduce the teenage boys her husband had sent. Of course, the fact that the number of boys had doubled meant that she might need to add more phases to her scheme on the fly.

She entered the master bedroom and when she turned to close the door before changing, she stopped herself. She decided to leave it open, just in case anybody wanted to come and try to sneak a peek; she wanted it to be easy for them.

This made her feel dirty, and she marveled at how much she liked that. Then she walked over to the bedroom's hidden camera, looked into it and quietly spoke to her husband through its microphone.

"Four boys? Seriously? You're a perverted asshole."

She couldn't help but smile at her own hypocrisy as she turned toward her closet.

When Rhonda began contemplating what she wanted to do next, she found herself being skeptical of how things were going to work out with Alex. He was kind of cute and all, but eighteen or not, the kid looked like a child and it probably didn't bode well that he seemed to be scared to death of her. She didn't even know what his voice sounded like; he hadn't emitted more than a squeak in her presence.

While she slipped out of her tank-top and into her next outfit, she decided that big Brody was the obvious choice to be her first target. He certainly wasn't hiding his lecherous interests. She would give the other boys tasks in the yard but assign the basketball star something in the house or garage.

Rhonda would separate him from the rest of the pack; get him alone with her. Just like any good predator would, she mused.

A few minutes later, she re-entered the kitchen where she interrupted little Alex while he'd been speaking. He clammed up the moment he realized she was back. He had been saying, "I'd give anything to..." but then he stopped and looked away.

"Hey guys." she said.

Rhonda had brushed her hair and put it in a casual ponytail, all ready to work. She was now wearing blue workout shorts that could mostly be described as tiny. She'd double checked in her full length to make sure that when she bent over, they climbed into the crack of her butt, just the way she wanted them to.

On top, she wore a simple, loose fitting, white t-shirt with a shallow V neck. No bra, of course. No cleavage was visible, but the incredibly thin cotton was so nearly see through that she was pretty sure that the darker hew of her areolas could be seen against the paleness of the rest of her skin.

Rhonda knew from wearing it around the house on a couple of occasions in the past that the material had the tendency to cling if she even thought about perspiring, and the weather forecast said that it was going to be ninety degrees later.

Other than shirt and shorts, she wore her strappy, flat sandals and she'd painted all of her nails blood red the night before.

Brody's face told her that he approved of her appearance. Steve's did as well, now that she looked at him. Kip remained as unreadable as he'd been since arriving and Alex was, of course, studying the floor tiles.

"So what did my husband tell you guys you would be doing?" she asked, and immediately realized that it was perhaps a loaded question.

Steve answered.

"He said something about moving a raised garden, whatever that is, and maybe some other yard work. He also said to make sure we wore clean work clothes because you might have us do some stuff in the house first. He told us to just do whatever you wanted us to do. He said, as long as you were happy when we left, it was all good."

Rhonda wondered to herself how Greg had managed to keep a straight face when he'd given the boys these instructions.

She told them that they were going to divide and conquer for a while. She wanted three of them to begin moving some gardening tools out of the garage to the existing garden in the backyard, and one of them was going to help her move some books out of her walk-in closet for a few minutes.

Just as she was about to specify Brody for the bedroom job, the boy himself, volunteered Alex for the detail.

"He loves books." Brody said, of his diminutive friend.

Rhonda felt that a love of reading probably didn't help you physically move books around more easily but she didn't want to be too weird about it either. She quickly decided that, worst case scenario, she'd finally get those books out of her closet that Greg kept promising to move.

She let the outside team know where to find the barrel of tools in the garage and where she wanted them in the yard. Then she told little Alex to follow her to the bedroom and surprisingly, he favored her with a smile.

Interesting, Rhonda thought.

Once they were deep in the master suite closet, Alex did another interesting thing. While she was explaining where she wanted the stacks of books moved to, a storage room down the hall, she found the young man standing far closer to her than he strictly needed to.

Rhonda had turned to see if he was paying attention to what she was saying and found herself nearly nose to nose with him. His eyes, only a few inches above hers, were green, she noticed. Those eyes were slowly making their way up her body until finally they locked on her own.

"Are you okay, Alex?"

He had a strange look on his face and he was a little pale.

"You are so beautiful." he said, with a very serious tone.

"Um, thank you."

"I've never been this close to anyone as beautiful as you."

"Awe, that's sweet." she responded, honestly a bit touched by this solemn declaration.

"Brody said," the boy went on, "that he thinks you want to have sex with one of us."

Alex was staring deeply into Rhonda's eyes while he shared this little revelation.

His whole bearing seemed different to her, almost confident. As if he were testing the waters with her. She was mildly shocked to realize that she was getting turned on by his proximity. They were in such close quarters and his scrutiny of her was so intense and earnest.