Pandora's Box Pt. 01

Well, it actually wasn't a box, but rather a door to a bedroom. And it wasn't Pandora's door, it was our tenant Lisa's door. And it wasn't a curse inside but rather items that lead to an unexpected series of very pleasant events. No, Lisa's bedroom wasn't the scene of group sex, lesbian explorations, or an affair. At least not involving myself and my wife Janet. Let me start at the beginning.

I'm a rather typical 35 year old suburban middleclass, college educated working professional living in the suburbs, working about 40-50 hour work weeks and happily married to my wife, Janet, a 34 year old similarly college educated middleclass working mom of two delightful daughters, Amiee, our precocious 8 year old and her little sister Anisha, 6. Like most of the rest of the world, we were a little busier than we wished and not quite as well off, but couldn't really complain. Tennis kept me in rather decent shape about 9 months a year and Janet kept her very nice figure in very nice shape particularly in the summer when she was off from her teaching position and busy with the kids.

Three years ago, a group of neighbors banded together to confront the owner of an 8-unit apartment building across the street from our single-family neighborhood. The place was in disrepair with more noise, cars, commotion and non-resident people than the neighbors thought appropriate. I was appointed as the spokesperson, and we confronted the owner. The elderly owner pled guilty to not doing a good job of managing the place and was apologetic. When asked what he was going to do about it he looked at me and said, I just retired, and I am going to move to Florida, and you are going to manage the building. Before I could respond he laid out the terms. He would set up an account of $30,000 for immediate repairs and I could keep ten percent of the rents for a commission and ten percent for reinvestment. In a couple of years if the market was better, he would sell it. He said he would have all the paperwork together in a few days and I could start by the weekend. Stunned but intrigued, within a week Janet and I were apartment building managers.

That was three very busy years ago. The extra income had allowed Janet to take summers off to be with the girls and help out with the building. The building had been brought up to great condition after three years of hard work. The tenants had mostly turned over to a carefully selected group of well-behaved folks and we had been able to increase rents, keeping the owner delighted with the arrangement.

Three months ago, we got a call from a gentleman that was the father of one of the tenants. He was very business like and asked to set up a meeting the following Sunday. Him and his wife arrived about 4:00pm in a chauffeured black sedan and we invited them in. He thanked us for being willing to meet. They both looked stressed but were impeccably groomed. He got right to the point. He informed us his daughter, Lisa, our tenant, had been killed in an auto accident three days earlier and they were in town to make arrangements to have her body returned home and her affairs and possessions handled.

He asked about lease termination and told us he would pay the remaining three months on the lease less the security deposit and would give us $1000,00 to arrange disposal of her belongings. As I was telling him three months was more than was necessary as we could turn the property quickly, he was ignoring me as he was busy writing out a check for the full amount. They asked to see the unit and we walked the three doors down and across the street and took them to the unit. We told them we would give them some time, but they insisted it would only take a few minutes. The unit was nicely furnished and equipped.

They took her laptop computer, several photos, some papers from a file and some family jewelry items from her jewelry box and mementos and packed into one of the suitcases in the unit. The second bedroom in the unit had a lock on the door, something the tenant had evidently installed. With no key, they dismissed it and thanked us for our time as they took a last look around with tears in their eyes. The wife said to us, "Use, sell or give away the contents as you see fit." She smiled at Janet and said, "You look like you are the exact same size as our daughter, Lisa, she has a nice wardrobe that you might enjoy."

In less than 30 minutes they were gone having left a check and contact information. As we headed across the street to our home, I was thinking about whether or not I could get that high end large screen television retrieved and mounted in place of our older smaller model in our family room before Sunday night football started and Janet was mumbling about an end table and side chair, she had her eye on.

By 9:00pm my buddy Jake and I had the 55-inch OLED flatscreen mounted on my family room wall and we had only missed the first half of the game. The kids were tucked in bed and Janet was enjoying a nice bottle of wine she had retrieved from Lisa's fridge. Monday evening Janet briefed me on her day of forwarding the mail, switching out the utilities, cleaning out the fridge and sorting through some of the items in the apartment. Lisa's family evidently had money as all the items from the food in the fridge to the clothes in the closet to the furnishings were high quality. Janet had traded up our toaster, juice maker, toaster oven and assorted kitchenware with several boxes of our old stuff destined for charity. Something of a Christmas in July.

My Monday night assignment was to remove the lock from the second bedroom door. My trusty cordless drill made short order of the lock cylinder. I knew I would have to replace the hardware but at least Janet could get into the room. It was a long day with a full calendar for Tuesday, so my normal curiosity lost out to my busy schedule, and I did not look in the room.

Tuesday at noon I got a text from Janet, "You won't believe what's in the second bedroom."

Tuesday evening when returning home I followed my usual routine, a loud shout of hello to everyone, plugging in in my laptop and phone, and changing out of my work clothes and heading for the kitchen for dinner. I greeted the girls with a hug and tickle and sat at the table as Janet worked in the kitchen. As Anisha, my 6-year-old, babbled about her day at summer day camp Aimee interrupted by saying, "Mommy's skirt sure is cute."

I said, "Yes mommy is cute." as I turned to look at Janet. My jaw dropped. Janet was wearing a red pleated miniskirt, four-inch heeled sandals, a satiny white top tied around her midriff and shiny nylons.

She grinned as she saw my stunned look and smile. "I started going through the locked room. Lisa's mom was right, her clothes do fit me pretty well. Her bedroom closet was full of beautiful clothes and the locked room closet, well, it had an interesting wardrobe as well." She said as she did a little pirouette with the skirt rising enough to show off the lace tops of the hold up-stockings.

As I stared at the delicious sight I said, "I don't know what's for dinner, but I sure know what's for dessert."

Janet brought dinner to the table, refilled her wine glass and brought me a beer. She shifted our normal seating arrangement, so she was sitting beside me to my left. After our routine dinner prayer, Janet took my left hand and placed it under the table on her right thigh. This was unusual behavior for Janet. She was seldom that proactive and heretofore very modest. She would have never bought or worn a skirt that short. She looked a little flush, I wondered how much wine she had drank but she showed no other signs of being impaired and I couldn't imagine her drinking too much around the girls.

She slid my hand further up her leg. The lacy stocking top gave way to the warm flesh of her upper thigh. Then to the silky fabric of what felt like a skimpy pair of panties. All the while Janet was visiting with the girls as normal, and I was eating dinner one-handed while wondering what in the world had come over Janet. What else was in that locked room?

Janet leaned way forward to reach across the table for a serving dish. My hand ended up groping an ass cheek. A bare ass cheek indicating Janet was wearing a thong. She only owned a few and seldom wore them. I realized she may own a collection of them now. Then another clue to the unusual behavior.

"Is this what I think it is?" I asked Janet as my finger felt what seemed to be the base of a butt plug.

Janet squirmed a little as my fingers pushed against the object. She turned toward me and reached under the table. Her aroused nipples were making their presence known in spite of her blouse and bra. She placed her hand on my very hard cock and said, "We can explore that after the girls are in bed."

The next two hours till bedtime were excruciating. Janet used every possible occasion to tease me. The way she bent over to feed the dog revealed half of two butt cheeks and the red strip of fabric from her thong. Her swaying hips seemed exaggerated and when she emerged from the kitchen to join us in the family room I noticed another blouse button was unbuttoned with even more of her 34 C's on display. When she sat to help our daughter with her reading she seemed to wiggle and let out a subtle moan - I presumed because the butt plug had been pushed in deeper. I struggled to concentrate on watching the news as images of ravishing the provocative creature that had inhabited my wife won my attention. I wondered what else was in that locked room and how it had affected Janet.

Stay tuned for part 2.