Agreeing with My Wife

"I just want to thank the two of you for the work you did downstairs. It's not the entire reason why I had you come over today, but wanted to mention it meant a lot to me."

"Well, it wasn't just us. In fact, we had a number of guys try to get in to help," Tony said. Tony was the older of the two by about 6 or 7 years, being closer to my age than Alex. But when Alex had started out with us, Tony had been a mentor to him and there had always been a bond.

Alex chuckled, "You can say that. I think some were trying to trade favors to get to help you out, Boss."

"Really?" I looked over at Alice, "how much did you offer to pay these guys?" She just shook her head.

"Really, Mark? You really don't see it do you?" I gave Tony a blank stare, I truly had no idea what he was talking about. I knew the guys liked working for me. Sure I ran them ragged some days. Construction is tough work, but I treated them fairly and paid them well. Anything I asked them to do, they knew I would be right there working alongside them. I appreciated them and made sure they knew it.

Alex opined, "I am sure we have some guys that'd kill for ya, if need be. And I don't mean that figuratively, either. You or Mrs. Andrews." Well, on that matter, I wasn't surprised. I had started this business, but needed an influx of workers.

Tony and Alex worked with me at another construction company, but the owner was a real piece of work. So one night we were drinking, yes this was before I stopped drinking, and lambasting the owner. We were talking about how we would run the business. Well, Alex, being the young buck he was, still had dreams that hadn't been stamped down over time. He mentioned that I could run a better company than our boss ever could and if I ever did start one, he'd come with me. Tony agreed.

A few years later, and sober by this point, I'd had it. I guess the alcohol had helped lubricate my ability to put up with shit. I had been able to save money at this point and decided to start my own construction business. I told Alex and Tony over dinner one night, our significant others (Tony was married and Alex was in a steady relationship with his future wife, I hadn't met Alice, yet). And they quickly agreed to join me, but we needed workers.

Alex mentioned his brother was a parole officer and was always criticizing how the system fails parolees. Alex relayed that businesses don't often give ex-cons a fair shake to a legitimate career. Oftentimes, the pay or conditions or, hell, both suck. To the point where their options are to struggle to make ends meet legally, or to revert to their former lifestyle and hope they don't get caught again. So I had Alex call his brother to meet with me.

I talked with Alex's brother and made arrangements to contact some of his parolees. I discussed everything with Tony and Alex and they thought my plan was brilliant. I was going to name the business Second Chance Construction and we were going to work with parole officers and get parolees hired. We had other, non-ex-cons, working for us as well. But it was definitely a 40-60 split, sometimes in favor of the ex-cons. Many have been able to use the job to get hired at better rates, some went on to college, some have even stayed on to help integrate recent parolees into life outside. So, yes, there may be one or two that would shoot or know someone to call for that kind of service.

"Come on, Alex. I hang out with your wife. We have dinner all the time. You can call me Alice. We're friends, for Christsakes. And don't give me that 'respect your elders' bullshit, either!"

"Sorry. I meant that as what the guys call you. At work. But seriously, Mark. This job, what you've given 'em is more'n some of their parents ever had. Shit, most of society ever did. So the chance to show their appreciation, yeah, they're all scramblin' to give somethin' back."

"Man. I don't know what to say to that."

"Just say thanks when they show up to help finish this thing," Tony advised.

"Wait. Finish?"

"Yeah, Boss. Soon as these guys hear you're back, they're all gonna wonder when the renovation is goin' to happen."

"How'd they know in the first place?"

"Well, shit, Boss. We told 'em. Then the ones that helped with the demo and clean-up told 'em what Alice said about fixing it up into an apartment and well those guys gossip more'n a salon full of women. And I ain't gonna lie, but soon as I see 'em, I'ma tell 'em you're back already workin' in the basement already. How much you wanna bet, Tony, some'll try to skip outta work to come straight over here."

"Shit. Yeah. We gotta be smart, Alex. We need to just tell them Mark is just getting prep work done and the real work starts tomorrow, else we'd best just close for the day."

"Hey! I'm the boss here. Don't I have a say what's going on?"

"Sure. They may not listen to 'Don't worry I got this' this time, though. Sure enough one'll come by and offer his help. He'll text a couple say he's helping the Bossman and a couple more will come by. At least this way, you know they're coming and can plan for it."

I hadn't heard the shower turn off, nor the door open or close. I had been wrapping my head around this new information. I did notice Rachel approach and stop as she saw two strange men in the kitchen.

"Babe, I'd say you are outvoted here." My wife got up, having finished her breakfast. "I gotta get ready for work." She wrapped me up in a hug from behind and kissed me on my cheek. As she walked out of the kitchen, "Bye Tony. Bye Alex. Thanks again for the help this week."

She brushed by Rachel and leaned in to whisper something in her ear and walked on. Rachel came into view of Tony and Alex and meekly said, "Hi," as she walked past them to refill her mug and also a bagel.

"Hot da...howdy!," Alex stammered. Luckily, Rachel was turned away from the guys or she'd have seen Tony backhand Alex upside the head.

Rachel turned to face them, bagel in hand. Tony stuck out his hand, "I'm Tony. This idiot's Alex. You must be Rachel, right?"

She gingerly shook the proffered hand and nodded her head. "How'd you know?," she looked in my direction.

"Alice mentioned they were expecting a guest to stay over. From what I gather, not for a short time, either. Well, not based on her plans."

"Well, um, yeah. It's not, well I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet."

Alex spoke up, "Well, really, you'd really be...or rather, you'd do worse, um staying at Boss's would be cool. I mean, for you, not me."

Tony just rubbed his eyes, "Come on, Alex. We got work to get to and you need to see a foot doctor."

"What?"

"To have it removed from your mouth. Let's get."

"Hold up," I said. "I was hoping for an update on our projects. How's everything coming? Anything I should know about?"

Tony turned around, "Nah. We're on schedule. Maybe even a little ahead. Think the guys wanted to show you they could be dependable without you. Maybe convince you to take a vacation every once in a while. We got this, 'til you come back...Monday?"

"Yeah. Back on Monday."

"Okay. We'll probably see you after work. Maybe not, actually, gotta show the wives we still remember them before we spring it on them that we're going to be here this weekend working."

"Come on. You don't have..."

"We know, but we'd feel pretty bad if we didn't. Besides, the way I hear it, they are planning something with your wife. But you didn't hear it from me." And the two of them left with their coffees.

I sat at the table, the floor plans still there from the night before, with a pad of paper and my cellphone out for the calculator. I started a shopping list of the hardware I'd need to renovate the basement. I didn't notice the time until my wife rubbed my back.

During the renovations, I managed to fix dinner as usual. After dinner, the three of us would watch a couple episodes of Game of Thrones to relax and unwind for the day. Then, we would head to bed leaving Rachel the couch.

One night, I started cleaning up the table, but Rachel stopped me. "Let me. I need to start feeling useful around here."

"You don't have to. You've been plenty useful with the renovation downstairs and..."

"You and Alice always say it's my place now, too. Right?" I nodded my head. "It doesn't feel like it. Not when you and Alice do so much around the house, do things for me. Please, let me help around the house. You won't let me pay you rent, you do everything around the house. I can help out. I want—need—to help. Just to feel like I'm not mooching of you."

"You aren't mooching off us. You're our gue..."

"If you say guest, I swear! I can't be your guest AND have this be my home, too."

I looked over at my wife who had sat silently up to this point. She shrugged her shoulders, "Don't look at me. She has a point. Either she's a guest or she's a resident. Besides, it would be nice to have someone cleaning up around here. Would make things easier on us. Like a, a maid," Alice said with a smirk.

I didn't get another word in on this discussion. Seems, the females in this household were going to outnumber the males and I was either going to argue with them both or learn to just accept their decrees. Hopefully, it wasn't going to be this lopsided every time, but in the interim I just held my hands up in defeat and sat back down. Rachel began clearing the table and loading the dishwasher.

After that, Rachel began waking up before me and having coffee and breakfast ready. The house was almost always cleaned by the time I got home, thus giving me more free-time to work a bit more downstairs. In fact some days, Rachel would have dinner prepped with only needing to throw it in the oven. I had to admit it was nice having help around the house.

During the weekends, the guys would come by and help finish the basement. My wife and the girls (Trish, Becky, and Rachel), would go out together and as to get out of our way. The first weekend, they went out looking at furniture, carpeting, tiles and paint. Another Saturday, they had all gone out to the spa for a "rest and beauty" day. Another weekend, they had manicures and hair done. And yet another weekend, was a shopping spree for an updated wardrobe for Rachel.

Some time after the shopping spree, I would notice Rachel getting more and more comfortable around the house. One day, I came home and saw her wearing a maid outfit. A French maid babydoll that looked like it came from Lion's Den, or some variant on that store. Sure there had been the fleeting joke about Rachel being our maid, but it was in jest. No way Alice or I ever actually treated her like a maid. Asking for services in lieu of rent. So her bent over in that tiny outfit had me stammering a quick greeting and quickly exiting to my room.

When my wife came home, I confronted her in our room. "You wouldn't guess what I came home to." Without giving her a chance to guess, "Rachel was cleaning the kitchen wearing a maid outfit!"

She turned to face me, "What? Really?!?" She started to laugh. "Oh my God. I only meant that as a joke." Continuing to laugh, "I can't believe she actually wore that! And to clean in, as well!"

"Wait. You got her that? What were you thinking?!?"

"Relax. I got it as a gag. I've mentioned on a couple occasions her being a maid. I bought the outfit with a letter about being properly attired for a maid. I thought for sure she would see the garment and instinctively know it was a joke. Who would realistically ever expect someone to clean in that! Obviously, she didn't realize it was a joke. Or..."

"Or?"

"Or, she really wanted to wear that around the house." She pressed her body firmly to mine. "Around you." She turned to face away from me, her ass rubbing up against my growing bulge. "Wanting to show off her body. To her hot. Sexy. Daddy."

She bent forward, hands on her knees. I ran my hands over her rump. I removed one and brought it back to her upturned ass...SMACK! "This what you want. Trying to get my daughter to show herself off to me?" SMACK!

"I'm just a slut, babe. A slut all wet for you." SMACK!

"Am I not satisfying enough for you? You got to get Rachel involved too?" SMACK!

"Oh, God. No. No. No. You are enough. I just can't help it." SMACK!

"We have to stop. You have to stop." SMACK!

"I...I can't. She has to know...has to know she's beautiful. Not to hide that gorgeous body in...in simple, loose-fitting clothes. I just want her..." SMACK!

"Want her to gain confidence." She turned to look over her shoulder. "Fuck me. Fuck my slutty cunt...Daddy." I raised my hand again for another smack, but that look on her face stayed my hand. I reached around and unfastened her pants she had worn and pulled it and her panties down her legs. I turned her around to face the wall while dropping my jeans and boxers down and impaled her on my stiff rod.

There was no love-making. It was animalistic, fucking. She was diddling her clit as I drove forcibly in her from behind. She kept muttering, "Fuck me daddy. Fuck your slutty daughter. Make her cum." And God help me, I did. I really needed to get to the bottom of what my wife was role-playing and why. I noticed, belatedly, that the door wasn't fully closed, either.

At dinner that night, my wife brought up the maid outfit. "Rachel, Mark mentioned you wore the maid outfit today."

"Oh, um, yeah. I wasn't sure about it. I mean it was really short and kinda transparent." My wife tried to interject, but Rachel kept talking. "I tried it on. Just to see how it looked. And it, well, it, um, I kind of liked it. So I thought I'd try and, well, I spent the day in it. You know, just to, I don't know, I guess, get used to it. I kinda forgot I had it on while I started cleaning, that is, until Mark came home."

She turned to me, "I am so sorry. I lost track of time. I didn't mean for you to see me in it. I just, please, I don't want this to be, I don't want to have to leave. I won't do this again, I promise."

I felt like I had to apologize as she started to tear up. "It's okay. I swear. I mean, yeah, it caught me off guard, but you should feel comfortable here to wear whatever. I mean, Alice and I, I'm sure you've noticed, us in some sort of undress. Since living here."

"So it's okay if I keep wearing the maid dress to clean?"

I looked at my wife. I was completely lost at this point. How had she gotten me to apologize to her for her wearing something so scandalous around the house. And now I somehow gave her permission to do it again? I was flummoxed.

"You realize—and I want to make this abundantly clear, Sweetie—you don't have to wear that outfit," my wife started, "I only got that as a gag. Because you've done so much cleaning and cooking. It was like we had a maid in the house. But that's all it was, was a joke." Rachel looked crestfallen. "But that's not to say you can't wear it." I looked at my wife as if she had sprouted two additional heads and her limbs turned into thick octopus-like tentacles. Like we have been saying, we want you to be comfortable here. Both in the house and in your own body. This is a safe place," she reached out and grasped Rachel's nearest hand, "and you should be able to determine your own comfort level."

With this permission, Rachel beamed. After this encounter, her lounging wear got shorter and skimpier, thus showing more and more skin. After dinner, she would usually go to change out of her lounging clothes and, ostensibly, into her sleepwear for our nightly TV. She'd wear tees, without a bra, that showed so much skin that the underside of her breasts would peak out when she would stretch her arms out. Her bottoms started out as really short shorts. Almost shorter than even the Hooters uniform shorts. But those started disappearing as she would just lounge in panties. Never thongs, but boy shorts and hip huggers. And, quite frequently, that little maid outfit made its appearances when I would come home.

It was around this time that the estate sale had been completed. Rachel got a nice check back, minus their commission. The realtor had also called giving her some updates on prospective buyers. We finally got the basement completed and furnished. Rachel seemed in awe of her new living area and hugged both Alice and myself.

We had made great time getting Rachel's apartment finish, but I felt guilty. I had spent so much time and energy I feel like I neglected my wife, but our days were long and hard and we were both exhausted. As such, sex with Alice dwindled down to almost nothing. We were still affectionate; kissing, the gentle rubbing and stroking of body parts (mainly keeping away from erogenous zones, though), and of course snuggling both under the blanket on the couch and in bed.

So I made a reservation at a fancy restaurant. I had showered, shaved and made sure my best suit had been dry cleaned. I got a text message that my wife wasn't going to be able to make our date. I was bummed, but I texted that I understood. I was about to call up Alex or Tony and let them have our reservations when I got another text message from Alice. She suggested I ask Rachel to go with me.

I was bummed I couldn't have this one date night, in what seemed like forever, with my wife. But I thought maybe Rachel would appreciate a night out as well. So I walked downstairs, I rarely came down here letting her have her space, and knocked on her door frame since the door itself was cracked open.

"Oh shit! Um, don't come in! I'll be right there," came from somewhere behind the door before a head appeared through the crack and little else. "Yes?"

"Hey, so I had dinner plans with Alice, but she's not going to be able to make it. She thought I should ask you if you'd like to join me instead."

"Yeah. Um, she already texted me." Wait really? She just finished texting me. "She said it was a nice restaurant. Real upscale?" I nodded my head. "So suit and tie? For you, I mean. And a nice dress for me?" Again I nodded. "One sec, I want your opinion." At that point, the head disappeared and I heard rustling in the room.

Shortly afterward, the door swung open and standing before me was one of the most gorgeous sights I had ever seen. Rachel stood before me in a black dress with dark red outlines of roses. It had a deep, plunging neckline that came almost to her navel. The longest hem reached her ankles, but with an asymmetrical hem the right side bared most of her thigh. She turned around so I could see her back and it was just as stunning. The straps crisscrossed multiple times down her back. The back was low enough to show off her dimples of Venus.

When she turned back to face me, she asked, "How does this look? Is it fine for where we are eating?"

I, still stunned, nodded my head, "Yeah. Yes. The dress looks..." I stopped talking. I have been married long enough to notice the look she had in her eye. She wasn't asking me how the dress looked. She was fishing for a compliment on her look. I quickly amended, "You look gorgeous. Any man would be lucky to be your companion for the night. I just hope I can clean up enough so you aren't embarrassed by me."

At that point, she demurely smiled and gave me a big hug. "I don't think I...well, I haven't even finished getting ready, yet. I was just hoping the dress would be fine. Alice helped pick it out, but I haven't had any reason to dress up, really, and just wanted a reason to wear it." She let me go. "I'm just glad you liked it so much." I did my best to turn my waist so as to not give away how much I liked that outfit, but I feel like I wasn't at all successful in that regard.

"Well, I think...I mean, I need to go...get ready, that is. Um, so, the reservation is in an hour and a half. So we should probably leave in about forty-five minutes, or so," I stammered.

"Sounds good; I'll be ready by then." She turned and re-entered her room.