Sunday morning – like so many others. A sharp elbow in the ribs from my wife roused me from a deep sleep. In my drowsy state, I chose to believe the pain was caused by a pulled muscle – my entire body ached anyway – what was one more pain?
"Don!" I heard…slowly coming to realization that in addition to bruising my side, Julie, my persistent better half had been stage-whispering my name into my ears repeatedly. For how long, I had no idea. The level of annoyance in her voice implied that it had been a while.
"DON…you HAVE to GET UP…NOW."
It all came rushing back. The Saturday spent loading boxes and hauling them to the truck. The multiple trips up and down multiple stairs carrying multiple heavy pieces of antique furniture. Why, I wondered, as I stretched my sore muscles and turned to face my wife – WHY hadn't I hired someone to help? Why had I agreed to Julie's suggestion that we "minimize" our "living spaces." Why had I let her subscribe to "Real Simple" magazine? Whatever happened to just plain house cleaning?
I squinted through one eye – maybe if I played dead I'd be let off the hook? She was leaning over me, looking down at my face. The look on her face told me that these were the last pleasurable moments I could expect from this day.
"Don," she sighed "I KNOW you don't want to, but you have to get the truck to the storage place by 10a.m. if you want to unload it and get back here in time for dinner with Nancy and Jules."
Dear Lord, I silently prayed, let this be a nightmare…
Julie pushed herself up and practically vaulted out of bed.
"I'm going to shower and go shopping for dinner…I have so much to do to get ready!"
I watched her white naked ass cheeks saunter over to the bathroom door. My cock woke up with a start…followed by my brain.
I lay there listening to the sounds of her morning ablutions – toilet flushing, teeth brushing, shower running. I idly played with my cock, remembering some long ago tryst and thinking about the feeling of my cock between Julie's ass cheeks, getting harder and slowly waking up. Maybe, I thought, if I can just persuade her to get back into bed and have a nice long session, I could delay the inevitable. By now, I was good and hard and rubbing some precum around the top of my cock with one finger, enjoying the feeling.
I heard Julie shut off the shower and flung the covers off, exposing my naked body, feeling the cool air on my wet cock head.
I raised my head from the pillow when the bathroom door opened and Julie emerged, wrapped in a towel.
"Julie," I croaked, "come back to bed, it's Sunday morning for Christ's sake!"
She paused on her way to her closet and looked at me.
"Oh good, I see you're up!"
She continued towards her closet, dropping her towel and reaching for her panties.
My cock knew before my brain that it was not going to be getting any attention this morning – and started to wilt before I fully comprehended her sarcasm.
I gave in to the inevitable, sliding out of bed, and dragging my sore body to the shower, where I reviewed the day that lay ahead.
I had a 14' Ryder truck outside on the curb that I had to drive 45 minutes from the house I shared in downtown Philadelphia with a woman who aspired to be a cross between Martha Stewart and the head of an ashram to some godforsaken spot in New Jersey where some fool had decided to locate a self storage facility. All of this, I muttered to myself, so that she can have a Yoga Studio and Meditation Room rather than a nicely cluttered office and TV room. Well, I thought, as I soaped my still semi-hard cock, at least the yoga has paid off.
Julie was hot – objectively so, I noted with satisfaction when we walked down the street and heads turned. And that made up for a lot of other flaws. There were times – usually when I was looking up at her breasts as she rode me up and down, her hands pulling the hair on my chest… times when I could very easily overlook her relentless drive to self-improvement, that somehow extended well beyond herself to me, our house, her relatives, my relatives…a long list. Not that I was without flaws – just that I often wondered how it was that she and I had stayed together for ten years. Maybe because I allowed myself to be improved by her and helped to fund her numerous other projects…maybe because I was lazy and addicted to sex. But back to Julie.
Yoga had been her passion for the past ten years. Five years ago, she had quit her job as an assistant treasurer with a Fortune 500 company – even I, a corporate shill of the worst order, had to agree that it was pointless but for the paycheck. She took her 401k and her savings, we took out a home equity line, and she started a yoga studio. She had developed a healthy following – like-minded women who enjoyed sitting in overheated rooms imitating trees and dogs. While the business didn't make much, it supported itself and from my point of view, paid other dividends. Julie had a very well toned body and could bend better than a Philly soft pretzel. She was on the tall side to begin with – 5'7", but when I met her at Wharton, she was skinny. Now she was athletic. Her shoulders were broader and muscles toned. Her breasts were on the small side – but who needs more than a handful? She had dark brown long hair, and tanned skin – the result of frequent retreats to yoga retreats in warm climes.
She had tried, unsuccessfully, to make me interested in yoga. I am not a top-notch physical specimen – I'm tall, 6'3" – and that hides a multitude of sins. I am not well toned – I sit on my ass all day in front of a Bloomberg terminal trying to outsmart other guys doing the same thing. Not that I'm flabby– just that my idea of physical activity…well, I was engaged in it right now.
I continued to soap my cock, thinking of Julie's legs, wrapped around my waist, buried in her pussy. I squatted down in the shower, reached around and fingered my ass while my other hand stroked my cock. In my mind, I was deep inside Julie, my balls slapping on her ass. I felt my balls tightening and that satisfying feeling building deep under my cock, building up as I opened my legs and shoved my ring finger deep inside my ass. I came hard, spraying cum from my sudsy cock over my hand and out onto the shower floor, my ass squeezing hard around my finger.
I watched as the shower washed soap and me down the drain and slowly stood back up.
I was not looking forward to this day. I had made a big mistake. Julie, who was usually right about these things, had tried to persuade me to call one of my buddies to help with the move. Being a stubborn SOB and probably wanting to prove to Julie just how burdensome her ideas about house improvement were, I told her that it was absolutely unnecessary and that I would do it myself. Julie, knowing that I was not going to be moved from this unreasonable position, left the topic alone and left me to my own devices.
So here I was, day 2, and still not willing to ask for help. Even after a hot shower and a relaxing session with my hand, my body still ached and I knew by nightfall it would hurt more. And her brother, Jules and his wife Mary – who in their right mind names their children Jules and Julie? were coming over. Jules was ok in my book. Julie was like her mother in a million ways – just the updated model. Jules had inherited his father' demeanor – and he and I were a lot alike. We didn't make waves – we let them ripple under the surface. And Jules had married another Julie – or at least someone like his mother. We were like a pop-psychology textbook family. Jules' wife, Mary, was insufferable, and when she and Julie were in the same house, the two competed on every level. Julie would spend all day preparing tonight's meal, and it would be picture perfect – right out of Bon Appetit – but Mary would one-up her by bringing over a hard-to-find wine or a bunch of flowers imported from South Africa, and spout-off about the meal she had prepared the night before, yada yada yada. At least Jules and I were able to sit back, crack open some beers and let ourselves enjoy the entertainment.
At least I'd be alone all day, I thought, as I pulled on my jeans and a t-shirt.
Julie was already out shopping for the evening's meal when I came downstairs. I grabbed a cup of coffee, put it in a thermos, grabbed the keys to the Ryder and out I went.
* * *
An hour later – after getting lost on the way – I pulled into the parking lot of a warehouse. The place looked deserted except for one car and another rental truck in the parking lot. It was basically a large warehouse, with a couple of loading ramps. I'd never been here before – Julie had ordered the storage space online, and had taken care of the details. I figured that the storage units were inside. I pulled up to the bottom of the second of two loading ramps at the storage facility.
The garage door at the top of the ramp was open, so I went up and looked inside. The building was massive – filled with wooden storage bins as far as the eye could see. But there was no one around. There was no one at the top of the loading ramp, though. I'd passed what looked like an office on the way to the loading ramp, so I walked back down the ramp, walked the length of the building in that direction. At least the day was nice – a crisp autumn day – and even though I was not exactly looking forward to unloading the van, I was enjoying being away from the house.
I got the office and tried the door – locked. Cursing, I leaned close the tinted glass, put my hand up and tried to get a look inside. There was a woman leaning against a counter – but no one was behind the counter. I took note of her ass – which was filling out a pair of faded blue jeans nicely. I rapped on the door with my knuckles. She turned around and looked, then looked back at the counter and turned on her heel and started toward the door.
As she came towards me, I noticed the rest of her – dark short hair cut into a bob framing a nice Irish face. Blue eyes, high cheekbones. She wore a faded green t-shirt. I could read "Yellowstone" through the door as she came closer. She was about 5'6" I guessed, not thin, but not overweight. Her jeans, I noticed, rode low on her hips. All in all, she made a pleasant first impression. She was smiling, too, I noticed – as she reached down to unlatch the door.
As the door opened, I said "Hi – do you work –"
She laughed – a sweet little laugh – no – just waiting for the guy to come back with my key.
"Thanks for letting me in," I managed, and followed her back up to the counter.
