did a good job raising their daughter up in the respect. Marge was a different conversation.
Knocking harder, Brian began to sweat. Tugging at his collar, he remembered Marge down on all fours last Tuesday. Just the memory of her smell and her quick gasps for air, sent blood flowing to his organ. What he liked best was that Marge wasn’t picky. She would jump right in to whatever fantasy he had at the moment.
Not Angela though. His wife was too dignified to cut loose. Over the years, their intimacy had shriveled down to nothing. She was still sexy. Her body lithe and sensual, even after turning forty last year. It was Angela’s attitude that made his balls hurt. She couldn’t understand his needs and turned her back on him years ago.
Holding his breath, he heard movement from the other side of the door. Puffing out his chest, he leaned against the frame, wanting to wow her.
With a click of the lock, the door swung open.
Brian’s words caught in his throat when he realized it wasn’t Marge, but her daughter Katie standing there. With a sleepy expression and blond hair hanging lose around her shoulders, the girl was a spitting image of her mother. Surveying her body, the only noticeable difference was the girl’s smaller breasts.
Give her a year or two and s he ’ll be a hot little thing.
“She’s not home,” Katie said, motioning to the room behind her.
Brian tried smiling. He knew the teen wasn’t happy to see him, especially after she caught him in bed with her mother a week earlier.
“Hi Katie. Looks like I waked you.”
“Yeah, so what? She’s not here.” Katie shrugged.
“It’s her day off. Do you know where she’s at?”
It took a moment for Katie to respond. Running her hand across her forehead, she breathed out a deep sigh. “You spend enough time with my mother. Try doing the same with your wife.”
Stepping to the side, she closed the door.
Amid the putrid smells of the hallway, Brian stood staring at the door, unsure what to do with his afternoon.
4
MARGE
Thursday 12:15 PM
Marge held a pair of lace panties to her hips, unsure if she needed a size six or a size seven. On sale for five dollars a pair, she didn’t want to pass up the deal. She hated that the Wal-Mart in Winsted never let you try them on. For a woman with curves like hers, fit was essential. If she brought the undergarments home and they were too big, she would end up having them fall down inside her pants all day. If they were too small, she co uld give them to Katie, but her daughter would complain about Marge’s spending habits.
When did she become such a stooge?
Unable to understand why her daughter was constantly riding her about saving money, Marge picked out a few luxuries and placed them in the cart. Nail polish, moisturizer, and new bras and panties were a splurge. Another glance through the clearance wrack and Marge discovered a fun little find: a cheetah print negligee with black spaghetti straps.
Katie always complained that she didn’t leave enough for necessities, but Marge knew better. Money spent on looking nice was an investment.
At forty one, Marge was at an age where she was young enough to land a man of quality, but old enough to know how to choose one worth keeping. Her first husband was a learning experience, her first boyfriend a learning disaster. Had she known just a few years ago that men grew tired of a relaxed woman, Marge might have tried to spice things up sooner. After so many painful mistakes, she vowed never to screw up a good relationship again.
Although she didn’t usually go far from town because her car wasn’t the most reliable vehicle, Marge decided to sneak off alone so she could find a little something sexy to wear. Things were coming along well with her current relationship and she didn’t want to start getting too comfortable.
It was
Knocking harder, Brian began to sweat. Tugging at his collar, he remembered Marge down on all fours last Tuesday. Just the memory of her smell and her quick gasps for air, sent blood flowing to his organ. What he liked best was that Marge wasn’t picky. She would jump right in to whatever fantasy he had at the moment.
Not Angela though. His wife was too dignified to cut loose. Over the years, their intimacy had shriveled down to nothing. She was still sexy. Her body lithe and sensual, even after turning forty last year. It was Angela’s attitude that made his balls hurt. She couldn’t understand his needs and turned her back on him years ago.
Holding his breath, he heard movement from the other side of the door. Puffing out his chest, he leaned against the frame, wanting to wow her.
With a click of the lock, the door swung open.
Brian’s words caught in his throat when he realized it wasn’t Marge, but her daughter Katie standing there. With a sleepy expression and blond hair hanging lose around her shoulders, the girl was a spitting image of her mother. Surveying her body, the only noticeable difference was the girl’s smaller breasts.
Give her a year or two and s he ’ll be a hot little thing.
“She’s not home,” Katie said, motioning to the room behind her.
Brian tried smiling. He knew the teen wasn’t happy to see him, especially after she caught him in bed with her mother a week earlier.
“Hi Katie. Looks like I waked you.”
“Yeah, so what? She’s not here.” Katie shrugged.
“It’s her day off. Do you know where she’s at?”
It took a moment for Katie to respond. Running her hand across her forehead, she breathed out a deep sigh. “You spend enough time with my mother. Try doing the same with your wife.”
Stepping to the side, she closed the door.
Amid the putrid smells of the hallway, Brian stood staring at the door, unsure what to do with his afternoon.
4
MARGE
Thursday 12:15 PM
Marge held a pair of lace panties to her hips, unsure if she needed a size six or a size seven. On sale for five dollars a pair, she didn’t want to pass up the deal. She hated that the Wal-Mart in Winsted never let you try them on. For a woman with curves like hers, fit was essential. If she brought the undergarments home and they were too big, she would end up having them fall down inside her pants all day. If they were too small, she co uld give them to Katie, but her daughter would complain about Marge’s spending habits.
When did she become such a stooge?
Unable to understand why her daughter was constantly riding her about saving money, Marge picked out a few luxuries and placed them in the cart. Nail polish, moisturizer, and new bras and panties were a splurge. Another glance through the clearance wrack and Marge discovered a fun little find: a cheetah print negligee with black spaghetti straps.
Katie always complained that she didn’t leave enough for necessities, but Marge knew better. Money spent on looking nice was an investment.
At forty one, Marge was at an age where she was young enough to land a man of quality, but old enough to know how to choose one worth keeping. Her first husband was a learning experience, her first boyfriend a learning disaster. Had she known just a few years ago that men grew tired of a relaxed woman, Marge might have tried to spice things up sooner. After so many painful mistakes, she vowed never to screw up a good relationship again.
Although she didn’t usually go far from town because her car wasn’t the most reliable vehicle, Marge decided to sneak off alone so she could find a little something sexy to wear. Things were coming along well with her current relationship and she didn’t want to start getting too comfortable.
It was
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