I heard the garage door from my home office. I glanced at the time on my laptop. Engrossed in my work, I was surprised to see it was after six already. My wife, Claire, must have gotten home.
I work for an international company and rarely head into the office, but my wife has the typical 9-to-5 office job. Well, more like 8-to-6 since her recent promotion. Still, I wasn't going to complain after the significant salary bump she received. If she kept it up she would be out-earning me within the year.
I walked into our open kitchen and dining area just as Claire emerged from the laundry room after kicking off her heels. She smiled as she saw me.
"Welcome home, love," I said, kissing her quickly on the lips.
"Mmm, give me some more," she responded, wrapping her arms around me and kissing me much more forcefully. My hands crept down her back and gave her ass a small squeeze, eliciting a cute giggle and moan.
"I missed you, baby," she murmured, placing her head on my chest. Her arms rubbed up and down my back.
"Missed you too," I replied, squeezing her closer to me.
We stayed that way for a while, gently swaying in the area between our granite-top island and the dining room table her parents had given us as a wedding gift four years ago.
We broke apart and Claire went to the fridge, rummaged around, and emerged with the water pitcher. She chatted amiably about her day as she poured herself a glass of water. After taking a sip, she stepped back and yawned, stretching her arms out to the side.
"After that little adventure, I was stressed out. Steve expected me to fix the numbers by the end of the day, and without Barry's help I doubt it would have been possible..."
I stared at my wife, barely listening. My eyes narrowed as I examined her white blouse more closely.
"Dear?" I asked when Claire paused to take another sip of her water.
"Yes?"
"Your blouse...do you always wear it that way?"
She looked down as she set her glass back down onto the countertop. "Is there something wrong?"
"Isn't it a little...unbuttoned?"
Claire's white blouse and black skirt was a work outfit staple for her, so I didn't notice at first. The blouse was unbuttoned enough to show just a hint of cleavage. For many, this would mean little, but I knew my wife.
"Oh, this," she responded, reflexively placing a hand on her chest to hide the exposed skin. "Does it bother you?"
"I'm just surprised. We've talked before about your company's...culture, and how you wanted to make sure you were taken seriously, judged only on merit."
"Yeah," she said. "But they proved to me they were judging on my merit when they gave me the promotion last month. I feel like I can loosen up a little now."
"Oh, okay," I said, absentmindedly fiddling with some unread magazines on the dining room table. "As long as you aren't doing it because you feel like you have to."
"Not at all. I know my worth with the company now. They expressed that very clearly with my promotion."
Claire worked in the marketing department of a larger firm and her job had been a source of some anxiety since she first accepted it about a year prior. Before that, she had worked at a smaller company with few advancement opportunities. Switching over had involved some risk, as she actually made less money initially, but she knew if she worked hard the new company had much better potential.
My wife is a proud woman and confident in her abilities, so she bet on herself. We found out quickly, though, that this new firm had a very laid back culture, at least within marketing. Jokes and comments that may have been considered over the line at other companies were considered acceptable, as long as the people involved were comfortable with it.
This bothered Claire at first and she considered quitting. But after showing she wasn't interested in such behavior, men quickly backed off and acted in a professional manner. She noticed other women who weren't interested in that kind of treatment had been able to advance in the company despite insisting on professional, serious behavior. This gave her hope she could still succeed with hard work and skill.
Still, she had anxiety that her refusal to "play ball" with the sizable, openly flirtatious contingent could hinder her. But she remained diligent, brought money to the company, and was finally rewarded with a major promotion last month.
I walked slowly into the family room, and put the magazines back into the rack next to our fireplace.
"That's true," I said, continuing the conversation and turning back to my wife. "But now you have a reputation as the no-nonsense, serious professional."
"That's kind of the problem," she answered. "The higher ups in marketing are a laid back group. Some are even pretty wild, though they rein it in at headquarters. Sometimes I worry I portrayed myself as too serious for them."
"The whole point is you shouldn't have to change for them to see your value."
"I know! But, I don't want to be the serious one, Dan! That's not who I am, really."
This was true. Claire was never one to avoid a party and she certainly enjoyed being the center of attention.
"Okay," I said. "I just want you to do what's best for you, and what makes you comfortable. You shouldn't have to change your personality for this job."
"Exactly! This is me course correcting now that they have invested in me."
I looked at her again. The white blouse showed off her curves, not in an inappropriate way, but tight enough so her breasts were prominent against the material. The blouse was opaque, so none of the bra underneath could be seen, but it was unbuttoned to expose just a touch of the fair skin between her breasts. It was tucked into a tasteful black skirt that ended a few inches above her knees.
Claire noticed me looking. "Inspecting my outfit?"
I grinned and looked back up to her face. "Maybe a little."
"Are you worried about your wife dressing like this at work? Do you think it's too much?"
"No," I said slowly, considering. "It's sexy, but still very professional. No one could fault you for wearing it."
"That's what I was going for!" she exclaimed. "I'm glad you noticed it. I've gotten quite a few second looks this past week."
I raised my eyebrows. "Is that so?"
"Mmhmm," she said, moving closer to me again. "Does that bother you? Other guys checking me out?"
"Maybe a little," I responded. "But I also find it kind of hot."
She was pushing herself against me now. "I can feel that," she chuckled, looking down at my pants.
"I had that before!" I protested, moving away a little. "Since I was checking you out earlier."
"Sure, sure..." she started, but no more words were said because she was kissing me urgently now, and pushing our entwined bodies toward our bedroom.
I enjoyed undoing the rest of the buttons of her blouse as she lay beneath me, and kissing the soft flesh of her chest. She moaned and rubbed the front of my pants as I kissed up and down from her neck to her breasts. Soon, the rest of our clothes were off and I was sinking myself into her, enjoying the way her head involuntarily shifted back as she felt my cock inside of her. Claire usually got so wet from me playing with her tits that I rarely needed to use my fingers or tongue to get her ready for penetration, but I sometimes felt a pang of guilt that I don't go down on her more because of that.
The sex was enjoyable but routine. Missionary, with me thrusting inside of her as she rubbed her clit. I waited patiently for her climax to come and go before concentrating on finishing myself. After a few more strokes, I pulled out and came onto her stomach. She was on birth control but, not wanting children yet, I still always pulled out as an extra precaution.