An Eye Full

I'm no Sherlock Holmes, but then again I didn't have to be that day. The little sports car parked in her driveway was the first clue she was having company. Familiar company. I glanced into the car seats as I sauntered past on my way into the house. Last time I checked, I'm still more than welcome to visit anytime. Even now. He's still smoking Camels and killing the taste with bubble gum. At least she's got good taste in a man but I knew that. Better taste than I do for sure. I gave it all a shrug, went up the back steps and through the door, stopping dead in my tracks. No need to be Sherlock Holmes at all indeed.

She'd worn the red sleeveless blouse. Nice choice, especially with the body she's got. It would have shown off one great set of assets, no doubt. Lungs that turn every straight man's head and some of the gay boys too. I surveyed the scene just inside the back door and put the pieces together in my mind. He arrived, parked and came in the back. She was waiting for him at the door. They kissed and then kissed again. My own heat rose as I imagined their passions growing. He swings her around, her back to the wall. The shirt's unbuttoned, no wasted time. She not only knows what he wants, she's going to give it.

The flimsy little bra laying on the kitchen floor was Clue Two. A little two hooker, the cups barely covering her and black at that. I've got a good set but she's even bigger. Totally, completely sexy wearing a little thing like that for a man. He saw that and it drove him wild. She wanted to get him in bed but he couldn't wait to unwrap his present. Let's see, he got it open, it falls, he mouths her breasts and wants to do her there. Maybe on the floor, maybe standing up but she wants too. Bed. She tells him take her to bed. He picks her up, carrying her in his arms. There's no slacks and panties laying in plain sight. Total conquest, she totally submits. Hell, she wants it as bad as he does. Oh shit.

Not only am I no Sherlock, I've got one lousy sense of timing. He was fucking her, he must have just gotten there five minutes before I arrived. Shit, I thought he'd been there a while, not just walked in the door. I froze in the middle of the living room, the two of them going at it twenty feet away in her bed, the reflection in the mirror telling no lies. Crumpled clothes by the bed, two bodies in heat. My feet felt like they were trapped in cement, I knew I had to split and I couldn't tear my eyes away. My God, he is one beautiful man and I am one flaming dumbass.

I could have had him. Me, being good, the loyal wife and all that bullshit. I could have had and I had to be so damn moral. Him, the silver tongued devil himself. I saw him suckle at her breasts and felt the shudder go through my body. I never let him but I should have. God, I should have, he is so beautiful. He could have had and he respected me. What I wanted. God, I was so stupid and he is so beautiful.

Him, that sweet little tour guide that took us on a one day adventure into Amish country through the university's non-credit program. An absolute charmer and a shameless flirt, he had every woman eating out of the palm of his hand. I know he had to be banging some of them, he just had to be. Not that I was sure but the bitches wouldn't have stopped him. Good looking, muscular, sweet talking, he just had to be doing the pussy. I just had to go out to lunch with him.

Three times we went out even though I knew I shouldn't. Hell, he was almost forty, I was twenty-three. I was married, for Christ's sake, and he sure wasn't, not that we talked about who he had been screwing. Three times and he never pushed. He never took me someplace I didn't want to go, but he never took me. I stared at the mirror, watching him mount her, and knew he could have. He could have had it all, more than just copping a feel, but I had to be so damn good. I had to be so damn moral one time in my life. She was opening her thighs, he was going to fuck her brains out and I had to be so damn moral. I closed my eyes, shuddered and felt the tears start to come.

It was a Wednesday afternoon, we'd been out to lunch that third time. I had to go to work that night but there was still plenty of time. We'd gone back to his place, me following in my car. Me packing condoms just in case, I admit it. I was nervous but I trusted him, trusted him more than I trusted the lout I married. Whatever was going to happen would happen, that's the way I looked at it. When he started looking at me as a woman, I was about gone. Then he kissed me, and then again. I wanted to be good and I wanted him so bad in a good, good way.

It's not that I was totally good, don't get me wrong. I mean I wasn't cherry pie when I got married but that's another story. This was something else. Me, the married woman but I also was sitting on the couch without a shirt on too that day. I'd made it tough, it was a turtleneck he'd managed to sweet talk me out of. Me, bra and jeans, him with jeans and so close and I lost my nerve. I opened my eyes to erase that memory, tears still down my cheeks and shuddered one more time. She was letting him go berserk, her legs starting to wrap around him as his chest crushed her breasts. I moaned once, watching her be so her. Knowing it was time to be me.

As quiet as a mouse I slipped away, out of the living room, through the kitchen and down the stairs to the basement. I knew this house well and knew me even better. Know my need and my need for privacy. Above me they were making love, a stallion riding her into total bliss, pure animal lust driving them wild. Driving me to be a bad, bad girl. Good girls just don't do this at all and I had to.

Slowly I unbuttoned my blouse and slipped it off. I had to, my heat burning my soul. I unhooked my bra, letting it fall as I caressed one breast. God, I was in heat. God, I needed. I needed a man, a real man, so bad, not the ass who married me so he can fuck me every Thursday night. My head tilted back as I felt a nipple snap to rigid attention. Total heat. Upstairs they were banging and me, barely hanging on to a damn washing machine, I needed it so bad. I needed it now.

With one hand I snatched a towel and slipped my slacks down. I could feel him at my breasts, a hungry mouth sucking. My panties slipped down as I could feel his body against mine, his hand sliding to my happiness. I let my finger brush my private place and shuddered. Upstairs they'd banged, they were done, and I was just beginning. I needed and God, I was in. Me, the married woman, getting myself off in a basement. Leaning against a washing machine and getting off. God, I needed it so bad and I was doing it. I did it, oh God, I did it to me. Me, one kinky bitch. Footsteps.

Two sets, oh shit, they were done. Done and right above me. I could hear the floor creaking as they moved to the back door. A wham bam, nothing wrong with that but I didn't think it would be this quick. Maybe she told him I'd be coming over too. The back door was opening. Steps. Footsteps. She's watching him, he's in the car. It fired up and was pulling away. Footsteps back through the house, stopping. That's right, she's picking up her clothes. OK, I'm ok, she'd take a shower now. I'm good, back on schedule. It's good and God, so am I.

I heard the water running in the bath and got dressed. Jesus, I can't believe I did that, got off, or that I wrote it all down but truth is the truth. I've pleased myself since I was twelve, I guess I was a kinky bitch even then. I don't know, sometimes it's a hell of a lot better than a man. Most of the time. All the time with my husband, but that's another story too. At that moment all that mattered was keeping a straight face.

Face it, I'd walked in on her getting laid with a stallion I could have had. Should have had. She's the lucky one and me, I get off in a damp basement just thinking about it. It sure was going to make for one interesting lunch, no doubt. I made my way upstairs, hearing the shower shut off. No way in hell I was going to admit what I'd seen, at least not face to face. All I could do was wait.

I pulled a soda out of the fridge, hearing her moving around getting dressed. It was just a minute and a couple of swills later I finally let her know I'd arrived, one of those "Hey, I'm here," things. Just another moment and around the corner she came. God, there is nothing more radiant than a freshly laid woman, totally happy, totally content but damn, she deserves to be. Red sleeveless blouse and black slacks, what a surprise. Damn, she was so happy I couldn't help but grin myself. Grin and say the one thing I already knew the answer to.

"Hiya, Mom. How you doing?"