The Clueless Husband

Sarah knew she was lucky to have a husband who made so much money that she could stay at home and didn't need to work, but sometimes she got bored. There were only so many lunches with the ladies of the rotary club one can attend in a week. Also, her husband Stephen worked so hard that he frequently was too tired to have sex. So there she was, a bored and horny housewife, a combustible combination.

It was a warm day in late September when northern California got it's yearly heatwave. Sarah used to call this time of year an "Indian Summer" but she knew that didn't sound right in the politically correct Bay Area, so she tried not to use that phrase. But it was hot so she put on her bikini and was going to head out into the backyard to read a romance novel in the shade when she realized that the landscapers were there working. She looked down at her tiny swimsuit which didn't leave much to the imagination and then out at the short, stocky latino men, brown skinned and sweating in the sun while they pulled weeds in her flower beds and mowed the lawn.

It didn't really seem proper to go parading half-naked in front of the workmen like this, thought Sarah as she hesitated. Samuel would definitely throw a fit if he caught her doing that. He could be so jealous sometimes. But then again, he wasn't due home for hours yet, and Sarah rather liked the idea of giving these little mexican landscapers a bit of a thrill. After all, someone ought to appreciate her sexy figure if her husband was going to be too exhausted to pay attention to her. So Sarah put on a wicked grin and nonchalantly strolled right out the sliding glass doors and into the back yard past the workman in her skimpy bikini. Her boobs were bouncing and her ass cheeks were half hanging out, so she tried to hitch up her top and pull her bikini bottom down to cover her rear better as she walked barefoot and self-conscious across the cool green grass. She felt her cheeks blushing as all work ceased and all the dark brown eyes of the lawn gang were fixed on her swaying figure.

"Caramba! Mamacita!" exclaimed one fellow in amazement, dropping his hoe as he weeded the flower bed.

"Calmate, pinche cabron," hissed another fellow working by his side.

Sarah giggled in response. Her Spanish was rusty, but she knew that the second fellow had said a bad word. "¡Hola! Ser educado en torno a una dama," she said to the one that swore. She was telling him to be polite around a lady and he took his hat off in apology and looked up at her, interested that she could speak his language.

"Lo siento, señorita. Lo siento," he said, apologizing profusely.

"Señora, Estoy casado," she replied with a smile, letting him know she was married.

"Eso está muy mal," he teased, suggesting that he wished she were single.

Sarah was a few inches taller than little landscaper and as they contemplated each other, she was struck by the differences between them. She was tall, thin, and pale, and he was short, dark, and thickly muscled. He reminded her of a mexican meatball, and he had that twinkle in his eye that some latino men had when they fancied themselves a lady's man. She didn't normally go for ethnic types. She had only every dated white guys, but she found this little fellow to be charming. He had an infectious smile.

They conversed for a few minutes in Spanish while the other guys went reluctantly back to work, gazing over enviously now and then as their pal chatted up the sexy mistress of the house. Sarah found out that the man's name was Oscar and that he was from El Salvador, not Mexico. She told him that he must be tired from all this hard work, but he just waved dismissively and told her that his family had a farm back home and that was real work, this was nothing. He told her about their goats and pigs, and plowing the fields with a donkey, and bragged that farm work had made him big and strong. He pulled up his shirt sleeve and made a muscle, inviting Sarah to feel it. She laughed and obliged him, and she had to admit he did have quite a rock hard bicep.

She noticed that Oscar kept looking at her body as they talked and after she squeezed his muscled arm, he put his hand in his pocket hastily. She could swear he was trying to keep a hardon under control so that it wouldn't show and she decided to tease him a bit.

"Don't you like my bikini, Oscar?" she asked him in Spanish, cocking a hip at him flirtatiously.

"Oh, yes, you look beautiful," he gushed, sweat beading on his brow as his hand rustled vigorously in his pocket.

"What have you got in your pocket, Oscar?" she asked innocently, still in Spanish. "Is it something for me?"

He blanched when she said it, and she thought that she had gone a bit too far, but then she realized that Oscar was gazing over her shoulder at the house.

Sarah turned in time to see her husband Stephen storming out through the back sliding glass door. His face dark with rage.

"For Chrissake, Sarah, what the hell do you think you are doing?" he shouted.

"I uh, was just talking to Oscar here, did you know his family has a farm in El Salvador?" stammered Sarah in shock.

Oscar ducked his head and hastily dropped down to his knees and started frantically pulling weeds.

"That's fucking marvelous, I am so goddamned fascinated to hear that," bellowed Stephen. He was still wearing his suit from work and was standing over the little workman in his dirty t-shirt and jeans. Stephen towered about the landscaper both physically and in terms of status.

"Don't shout, Stephen, you are scaring him," scolded Sarah.

"Don't shout?" he sputtered in indignation. "Look at yourself Sarah, half naked, fraternizing with the help. What are you thinking?"

"It's a nice day out, I just wanted to get some sun," she said defensively. She covered her crotch with her romance novel self-consciously.

Stephen looked at his shrinking wife before him and his anger cooled somewhat and hardened into a steely resolve. "Alright dear, alright," but these little Mexicans are being paid to work, not to ogle my wife," snapped Stephen. "You, Jose, get up, come with me, we are going to go have a little chat with your boss."

"Now Stephen, don't be rash," said Sarah, looking at her husband in fear.

"Sarah, you are soft. You are a woman. But these workers need a firm hand. I'm not paying them to slack off and hit on my beautiful wife," said Stephen, and he gave Sarah a hard peck on the cheek which she wiped off as he turned away from her.

"Come on, get up, Don Juan," demanded Stephen, gesturing to Oscar impatiently.

"Qué quieres?" asked Oscar, looking from Stephen to Sarah with a worried expression.

"He doesn't speak English, Stephen," sighed Sarah. "Él quiere ir con él," she explained to Oscar sadly.

Stephen gave his wife a strange look when she spoke Spanish to Oscar but noticed that the landscaper was complying. Oscar stood up and brushed the dirt from his jeans and dutifully followed Stephen into the house. Sarah trailed behind, wringing her hands anxiously. She felt terrible about getting Oscar in trouble with her frivolous flirtation and she hoped she could intercede on his behalf. Stephen ran through the living room and yanked open the front door to shout for the supervisor, Manuel.

Manuel was a big fat man in his fifties with graying hair and the face of a gorilla. He took his time coming into the house.

"What's the matter, boss, what's the matter?" he asked impatiently. "We have three more jobs to do today, I'm trying to get done here so we can move on." Manuel saw Oscar standing on the plush carpet and gave a start, then he saw Sarah standing there in her bikini and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. "¿Que pasó?, Oscar, ¿que pasó?"

"Nada , lo juro," insisted Oscar, holding up his hands defensively.

"Can we speak English here, please?" demanded Stephen, straightening his tie and running his hand through his thick dark hair. "I caught your man here slacking off and chatting with my wife. I pay you men to work, not to flirt with my woman."

Manuel looked Sarah up and down lecherously and it made her skin crawl. She wished she had a robe to throw on.

"You can hardly blame him, she's looking pretty good to me, too," he laughed, wagging his bushy eyebrows at Sarah and making a kissy face at her.

Sarah turned her face away in disgust and Oscar caught her eye so that he could shrug in apology.

"What? What?" sputtered Stephen, shocked at the man's insolence.

"Oscar said he didn't do nothing, and I believe him. Oscar's a good man. He was in the army you know," said Manuel. "It's not his fault if your hussy wife goes around with no clothes on. What's a man supposed to do? Tie his dick in a knot? Those are men out there, boss, not sissies. They like to see a nice body just like any man would. If you want them to work, then keep your wife inside until they are done."

"Animals! You are all a bunch of filthy animals!" gasped Stephen in indignation. "I should find a different landscaper."

"You'll have to find a crew of queers if you want them to work while she's traipsing around," laughed Manuel, not intimidated by Stephen in the least.

Sarah was mortified and wanted to get away from this scene right away, but she also wanted to apologize to Oscar about this whole episode. Suddenly she got an idea.

"Oh, Oscar, didn't you say that you needed to use the bathroom?" said Sarah loudly.

"¿Que?" said Oscar, not understanding her.

"Come along, I will show you where to go," she said, taking him by the hand and leading him to the stairs that lead to the second floor.

"What are you doing?" demanded Stephen when he saw his wife leading the confused Oscar upstairs by the hand.

"I'm showing poor Oscar where the bathroom is," said his wife.

"Let him use the one downstairs," said Stephen with exasperation.

"There's too much shouting down here," sniffed Sarah as she hustled Oscar upstairs.

Stephen was too distracted to complain further as Manuel dug in his heels.

"Look boss, we have a contract, you can't just go firing us for a little thing like this..." The sounds of the argument faded somewhat as Oscar and Sarah ascended the stairs and stood on the landing. Sarah looked over the banister and could see the tops of Stephen and Manuel's heads so she lead Oscar down the hallway a bit.

"Why did you bring me here?" asked Oscar in Spanish, his face a mask of confusion. "Your husband is going to be suspicious."

"I know," admitted Sarah. "But I felt so terrible about the way my husband was acting, that I wanted to apologize." She held her arms open to receive a hug. "No hard feelings?"

Oscar looked her body up and down for a moment then glanced over at the banister that overlooked the living room below. The sound of Stephen and Manuel's voices was still discernible as they argued. He embraced Sarah eagerly and they stood for a moment in a friendly embrace. Sarah felt a tingling in her belly as Oscar's scent hit her. He smelled like earth and sweat and it was making her aroused. His grip was strong but gentle and she could feel his erection pressing against her thigh as he grew harder and harder.

"Oh, Oscar, I feel that," she told him.

"You like that?" he asked her, looking up at her with a crooked grin, his chin resting on her bosom.

She reached down and gripped his rod through his jeans making him yelp in surprise. But once he realized what was going on, he quickly gripped Sarah's boobs in his hands and started pinching her nipples through her bikini top.

"Naughty boy," she scolded him as she continued squeezing the hard bulge in Oscar's jeans. "My husband would be very angry with you if he saw you do that."

"Oh, no, he would understand, I'm sure," laughed Oscar. "I think he likes me."

Sarah laughed at that and then unzipped Oscar's fly and pulled out his stiff penis. Stephen was being such an awful prick about this whole thing that she didn't feel very guilty about it. Besides, it was incredibly kinky to be giving the landscaper a handjob while her husband argued just downstairs. Oscar's prick was dark and veiny and he grunted with pleasure as she stroked her hand up and down his shaft. He stopped fondling her knockers and started rubbing her pussy, trying to locate her clitoris through the thin fabric of her bikini bottom. Sarah caught her breath and felt her pulse quicken and her crotch growing moist as she and Oscar brazenly fingered each other's genitals just 50 feet away from her angry husband.

"Sarah, what the hell are you doing up there?" called Stephen from downstairs and Sarah's heart leapt into her throat. She put her fingers to her lips and reluctantly released Oscar's dick as she turned and ran back to the solid banister that overlooked the living room from the landing where she stood.

Sarah leaned over the railing and called down to her husband. "I am keeping an eye on this fellow. I don't want him stealing anything," she said in a false whisper. Just then a fiendish idea came into her mind and she slipped her bikini bottoms off and dropped them to her heels. Stephen and Manuel could look up and see her from the waist up but her lower half was concealed by the banister.

"Oh come on, Oscar is a good man, he wouldn't steal anything," insisted Manuel, clearly shocked at the very suggestion.

Sarah giggled and wiggled her bare rear at him and Oscar quickly got the hint and he crept up behind Sarah and poked his penis between her round butt cheeks, nudging around with the head of his penis, trying to find the entrance to her labia. She gasped with surprise as his glans found her slippery twat and he sank himself into her, crouching behind her to stay out of site of the men below. Luckily Stephen was distracted and didn't notice her gasp.

"Hmm, I'm not so sure. I don't trust these Mexican immigrants, they have nothing to lose," said Stephen rubbing his chin. "Better for her to keep an eye on him."

"Jesus man, he's not even Mexican, he's from El Salvador," complained Manuel.

"No difference," sniffed Stephen dismissively.

Meanwhile Oscar was pumping away furiously, sliding his fat cock in and out of Sarah while her knuckles whitened as she gripped the banister with all her might. She gasped again as she tried to hide her arousal.

"What's the matter dear, you seem pale," asked Stephen finally taking notice of his wife. "And you are shaking." He forehead creased with concern.

Sarah bit her knuckle struggling to control herself as Oscar thrust into her from behind with more and more urgency, making her sway forward and back. She gasped and moaned in spite of herself. "I, I just can't believe how racist you are being, Stephen," she panted. Then she cried out with a show of emotion. "Ungh, it's just, oh god, I can hardly take it."

Manuel and Stephen exchanged a confused look at Sarah's sudden outburst of emotion. She seemed to be on the verge of tears.

"I'm, I'm sorry, honey, I didn't mean for you to get so upset," stammered Stephen contritely. "I mean, I am just a jerk sometimes I guess."

Oscar reached around and fiddled with Sarah's clit until she was on the verge of orgasm. She gripped the banister even tighter than she had thought possible and bowed her head, shaking as the climax overtook. From where he stood, it seemed to Stephen as though his wife was literally weeping and he gave Manuel another awkward look.

"Women! Go figure," said Manuel with a shrug. "But you are racist though."

"That's it baby, that's it," whispered Oscar. "Now it's my turn." And the little landscaper from El Salvador pumped load after load of his hot seed up inside of Stephen's tall gorgeous wife while the pompous cuckold looked up at his pale and shaken wife with trepidation.

"Oh yeah," agreed Sarah, to both Stephen and Oscar. She stood up straight and wiped her face dramatically. "Ok, uh, I need a minute to myself right now. I just can't believe what just happened here. I want you to think about what kind of man you want to be, Stephen," she told her husband. Then she ducked away from the banister and scurried down the hall arm in arm with Oscar as the couple cracked up with frantic nervous giggles.

"Oh my god, did you really cum inside me?" asked Sarah in shock, feeling Oscar's generous load already start to ooze out of her.

"Just a little," he admitted with a modest shrug.

"Oh shit, you have to get back down there," said Sarah. "I need some time to collect myself."

"I'll just tell them I was dropping a big load," he said with an evil grin.

"Just don't tell Stephen you dropped it inside his wife," giggled Sarah, touching Oscar's thick chest affectionately as he zipped up his jeans.