*Author's Note: For longtime followers of this series, I apologize for the long delay in my writing. Even before my long break on Literotica, I was struggling a bit with being able to express this story. But I'm working toward the conclusion and already have some work done on the next (final?) chapter, so it won't be another year and a half before I publish it. Thank you again for your support.
All characters are at least 18 years old.
*****
"I'm not going to let you two continue to make a fool of me," Mrs. Jennings said. She clenched her jaw and turned to Mr. Jennings. "I can't believe you would do that right in my face." She stood up and stomped toward the kitchen. Mr. Jennings reached out for her and tried to grab her hand, but she twisted her body and pulled her arm out of his reach.
"I don't know why you're so upset," Mr. Jennings said. "You basically let it happen. I asked you, and you said, 'no.' So, I went to Jasmine. She tried to include you, but I guess you thought it was too weird for all three of us to do it together."
Mrs. Jennings was at the sink getting a glass of water and twirled around to face her husband. "Of course it's weird. Two people should do it together, not three."
"But if you already knew we were going to do it, how can you get mad after the fact?" Mr. Jennings said.
I sat silently, hoping that neither of them dragged me into it. Things were uncomfortable enough as it was. Mrs. Jennings seemed genuinely upset. But Mr. Jennings had a point. I'd asked her to join us, so she couldn't really fault him for turning to me.
Mrs. Jennings threw back her half-glass of water like she was a chugging a beer and made her way back over to us. She stopped at the couch where her and Mr. Jennings' infant son Alex was lying on his stomach fast asleep. Mrs. Jennings reached down and gently stroked his blonde curls. I wondered what he'd make of this if he'd been awake and able to actually understand what was being said.
Mrs. Jennings turned back to us. She crossed her legs and plopped back down onto the floor. She started to say something, then stopped, then opened her mouth to speak again. "Fine. You two do what you want." She looked down and shrugged her shoulders as if having a silent conversation with herself. "Yeah, you two just go right ahead. Keep right on. I don't care anymore." She reached toward me, but Mr. Jennings' hand beat her to the spot and intercepted her. She lifted her eyes to him and offered a wry smile. "I'm going to get you both. Mark my words."
"Consider them marked," Mr. Jennings said. He had apparently reached the limit on his sympathy.
I slid my body back a couple inches. I could almost feel the heat coming off of both of their hands.
Mrs. Jennings lifted her hand and turned it over, palm up. "When I get my hotels up on Boardwalk and Park Place, I'm going to destroy you both. Atlantic Avenue, Ventnor Avenue, Marvin Gardens. Virginia Avenue, States Avenue, St. Charles Place," she said, listing off her most recently acquired properties. "There will be no escape."
Mr. Jennings picked up the dice in front of my right knee and dropped them into her open hand. "Ok, take it easy. Don't act like Jasmine and I made the property trade of the century here." He pointed across the Monopoly board on the floor between the three of us. "Even with hotels, the rent on Baltic and Mediterranean Avenue is like four dollars. We tried to make it a 3-way trade. If you had traded me--"
Mrs. Jennings shook her fist at him, almost looking like a cartoon character. "Save it." She turned to me. "And you. Maybe one day you'll learn that it's more fulfilling to earn things on your own rather than take what someone else has."
I shrunk back slightly. I had no idea she could be so competitive.
She turned back to Mr. Jennings and shook the dice in her hand. She tossed them across the Monopoly board, never breaking eye contact with Mr. Jennings. Her roll totaled three. Her racecar token was sitting on Ventnor Avenue, and moving it three spaces ahead meant--
"Oh, for fucks sake!" Mrs. Jennings shouted as she saw that she'd landed on the tile indicating that she had to go to jail. There was a small cry from the couch. Mrs. Jennings' outburst had woken Alex from his brief slumber. "Oh, no, I'm sorry, honey." Mrs. Jennings got to her feet and went over to console him. She lifted him from the couch and held him to her chest. After a few moments, he stopped crying and opened his mouth in a wide yawn.
I got to my feet and walked over to them and extended my arms. "Here, I'll put him to bed."
Mrs. Jennings gave him a kiss on top of his head and passed him to me. He cooed as I pulled him in close and carried him down the hallway to the back bedroom. I sat on the end of the bed and looked down at him. His eyelids were already sinking down. I ran my fingers across his hair and along the side of his face. He turned his head in the direction of my hand and nuzzled it. His body was so warm and seemed to radiate love. A literal bundle of joy.
As I continued to sit with him, waiting for him to drift back to sleep, I suddenly became aware of how at peace I was even though he wasn't my child. But since we'd been on this vacation, it had been almost like he was. The Jennings' had brought me along for extended babysitting services and help with caring for Alex around the clock. And in doing so, I came to realize I could do this full-time. I could be his mom--or, step-mom, rather. I could marry his father. I'd be a great wife. I'd do anything for him and give him anything. More children even.
The only thing in the way was Mrs. Jennings, but she was halfway out of the picture. She'd all but admitted that her husband wanted me more than he wanted her when she agreed to letting me have sex with him as long as we continued as if she didn't know about it and her husband didn't know she knew. But it didn't matter. She was on borrowed time. Mr. Jennings couldn't resist me. In time, he'd admit it to her, and then the two of us would be together...as a family.
Alex's eyes had fallen shut, and he was breathing deeply. I leaned down and kissed his forehead and then stood and carried him to the makeshift crib on the side of the room. I gently lowered him into it and pulled the blanket over him. I took a moment to watch him to make sure he stayed asleep before going out the door.
The living room was silent as I walked back up the hallway. One or both of them had probably fallen asleep while waiting for me to come back.