Chapter Three
Nieve and Lacey had lunch later in the week, whether in revenge or as something they'd already scheduled I never found out. Nieve came home in high spirits, carrying a couple of shopping bags into which she would not let me look. She went so far as to hide them somewhere to keep me from peeking. I checked the usual spots, but either she knew that I knew about them, or she had chosen one that I hadn't found yet, because they stayed hidden.
She and Lacey were texting more than ever, and whatever Lacey was sending must have been fairly racy, judging from the giggles and blushes and furiously tapped out replies. I was getting plenty of texts from Lacey too, almost always when I was at work, and none that gave actual information. Just, "heh heh heh" and similar. I had started replying with an emoji chosen at random.
Friday night was our date night. Lately this had meant a bottle of wine and watching a movie at home. Sometimes there was ice cream. Usually there was sex. This Friday, however, Nieve apologetically told me that she was going to babysit for her sister. Since this meant that Saoirse would take our kids in exchange some other time, I agreed. It didn't hurt that Nieve had run her hand over my chest when she told me and promised to make it worth my while.
Friday night came and Nieve left for her sister's. She had snuck out to the car earlier with one of the shopping bags she'd hidden, and I wondered exactly what she was planning.
Lacey texted me shortly after Nieve was gone. "u up?"
"It's 7p. Ofc I'm up."
"nieve not home?"
"Sister's."
"heh heh heh"
"What are you two doing for Saturday?"
"heh heh heh"
"ive got a week left still!"
"?"
"4 r bet!" This made me shift a little, thinking about Nieve and her mouth.
"Seriously what are you planning?"
"planning to get u a 1st class bj"
I put my phone down. Clearly I wasn't going to get anything out of Lacey. It buzzed a few more times that night, but checking the lock screen showed me that Lacey was just sending increasingly elaborate and obscene combinations of emojis.
Nieve came home late that night in a foul mood. I went to kiss her at the door and she turned away, presenting only her cheek.
"Okay, what's this about?"
"Jeez! Why didn't you check your phone?" she said, pouting.
"What's on my phone?" I asked, and got no answer. I looked. "Oh. Okay, yeah. I'm definitely sorry to have missed that."
Nieve had sent me another naughty picture. In this one she was pulling the front of her shirt down, showing off the tops of her breasts and her bra. It didn't show quite as much as the first one, but the fact that she'd thought to send it--sober!--made it almost as arousing.
"You are incredibly gorgeous," I said.
"What if I'd been in trouble?" she grumbled.
I did not mention that Lacey had been blowing up my phone. "I would have sensed it instantly because of our telepathic connection and raced over to save you." Was that a hint of a smile?
"Huh. Well, next time I want you to answer RIGHT AWAY." Apparently I was forgiven, since she gave me a real kiss and went upstairs to get ready for bed. I saved the picture and followed behind. I had been hoping for more than just a sexy selfie, but her demeanor made it clear that she was not in the mood, whether or not she'd forgiven me. I turned to face the other way and fell asleep myself.
---
Unusually Nieve was up before me the next morning. She was making breakfast when I came downstairs and hugged her from behind. She ground her ass against me and tipped her head back for a kiss.
"Good morning," I said.
"Good morning," she purred. We stayed like that for some time, simply enjoying each other's touch. "Coffee's ready," she said, disengaging at last.
Melly had a soccer game so she and Nieve left right after breakfast (Melly's team won, 3-1). Kay and Ri had zipped out of the house after breakfast, both with sleepovers to attend. With an empty house, I busied myself outside, getting the garden into shape. The day passed the way some Saturdays do, full of little tasks that take more time than you expect.
After a quick dinner, Nieve went upstairs to get ready for her night out with Lacey. I had been given strict instructions to stay downstairs until I was summoned. After some time I heard my wife's voice call out, "Okay. You can come up now!"
When I came into our bedroom I took a long moment to look her over. One of the challenges for a busty woman like my wife is that dresses that suit her bust are shapeless about the waist, and anything that hugs her waist simply can't handle the size of her bosom. But she had clearly put some tailoring work into what she was wearing tonight (and now it was clearer what she'd been doing while she was babysitting our nieces; her sister Saoirse was a seamstress and had a complete workspace in her home). She wore a midnight blue sheath dress. It was sleeveless, and she'd tailored it to hug her body and while it wasn't skin-tight, it certainly showed off her curves more than anything she'd worn in recent years. The high neckline just served to emphasize her assets. Nieve pirouetted to show me everything. The dress was backslit, and her ass looked amazing.
"Your butt looks amazing," I said.
"Thank you," she said shyly. Then: "The dress doesn't make me look...." she trailed off.
"It does not," I said. "You look incredibly sexy. I'm envious that Lacey gets to go out with you and not me."
"Well," she said, "I guess you'll just have to take me out soon, too." She turned around again. "Zip me up?" I complied, kissing her between her shoulder blades as I did.
"Where are you two going tonight?" She looked far too good for the Golden.
"Lacey knows a place? She said that she could get us in?"
"Someplace fancy?"
"I guess. I'm worried that I'm going to be the oldest woman there."
"You will certainly be the sexiest. I'm the one who should be worried."
She kissed me, slipping in the tip of her tongue. "Flatterer. You're sure the dress doesn't make me look--" she paused, and I expected her to say, "fat", but instead she finished, "--s-slutty?" She stammered a little as she said it.
"You look incredibly beautiful and not at all slutty," I said. "Like I said, I'm envious of Lacey."
"Well, one consolation for you is," she said, "YOU're the one who gets to take it off me later. You can think about that while I'm out." She started putting her hair up. I sat on the bed and watched her hands deftly arrange her dark hair.
"I'm thinking about it right now." A little pink showed on her face.
"Are you now," she said.
"I am. I'm thinking about taking it off, and pushing you down on this bed."
She got pinker. "Do you--" she hesitated, then tried again. "Do you wish I were, um, naughtier? Sometimes?" Her hands had stopped moving, and she was looking at me in the dresser mirror.
I took my time answering. Both demurring and pushing too hard would scare her away from that line of thought. And I wanted her to continue down it a ways further. To see that side of her again.
"I love the sex we have," I said, truthfully. "And I love you. It's very, very hot for me when you let yourself explore what feels good to you."
