Glass dishes clinked and clattered against stainless steel as my hands explored the foggy lake to find the clogged sink stopper. My patience grew thin alongside my ever-chipping nail polish. The maroon paint weakly clung to my fingers despite the erosion it endured with these mundane tasks. I sighed at my very exhaustion. Rolling my neck from side to side, I fantasized about my fiancé's fingers grooving intricate circles into the tops of my shoulders.
Then working his way to the blades...
Down the curve of my spine...
Down my lower back, tracing my youthfully regretful tramp stamp...
"Hey Lexi, anymore beer?" The fantasy came to an abrupt halt with one of Ron's scruffier friends leaning against the kitchen threshold. I couldn't tell if he angled himself adjacent to the trim of the doorway to look appealing or if he was simply trying to steady his drunken balance. He wasn't handsome, but not bad at all with his angular face and honey wheat locks. Instead, it was something about his demeanor that left a sailor's knot in the pit of my stomach. I didn't care for how he looked at me like I was meek prey, and he, a natural hunter. I swear his signature smirk existed solely to make women uncomfortable. Cruelty resides in the lines on his palms and his forehead, undoubtedly revealing his age. Whenever his icy eyes meet mine, they warn me that someday... somehow... he will be in between my legs with or without my approval. I shuddered at the thought.
I did a mental eye roll at his idiotic question.
Anymore beer? You'd know that a hell of a lot better than I would since you're the one that's been drinking us out of house and home lately, bud
. I motioned to the fridge with the side nod of my head. My messy bun flopped a little with the movement sending cascades of chocolate hair into a frenzy. Untamed strands had become my usual halo these days.
Bottles rattled from inside the refrigerator door as the stooped lush tried to pick a flavor of nipple to suckle on for the next half hour. I wanted him out of my kitchen. Out of my house. Out of my life.
"Kenny! You're missing the game!" howled Luke from his reserved seat on my grey suede sectional. Luke, on the other hand, was a beloved favorite of Ron's friends. He has only ever treated the women in his life with the utmost respect. He does not call me babe or honey -- unlike
some
creeps. There are no jokes at my expense. Hell, that man even holds doors open for me when he has the chance to. Not to mention, his timid features have a certain softness to them that just makes him trustworthy.
Kenny snatched an amber ale from the side door and jumped up excitedly only to almost tumble once again. "Thaaaanks." He slurred in slow motion staggering back into the living room, poison in hand.
I shook my head and peered down the counter at the assortment of soiled metal and porcelain that stretched to the stove. The hopelessness of the situation sunk in as I realized I was going to be at this all night. I ran a one -- woman show catering Turkey Day dinner this morning. Turkey, mom's special homemade dressing, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole with French fried onions on top, buttery mashed potatoes, and a decadent chocolate cake. The works. Ladies on both sides of the family offered help, but I was determined to be a big girl and do my first at-home holiday alone. That would show them all. Ron's new fiancé isn't just a dumb little girl, no sir.
Don't get me wrong, cooking sets my heart on fire. There is nothing more satisfactory than watching hungry stomachs delve fork-first into my appetizers, moan during my entrees, and beg for more dessert. Our friends and family usually wrap compliments up like gifts, crooning over me. Making cute little cliché jokes to Ron about how much of a keeper I am. But I'm not deaf to the whispers or blind to the exchanged looks. Either way, there is nothing I love more than being the star of the show. Waking up at five in the morning to get the bird in the oven is a sacrifice I'm willing to make if I can have a day of admiration and gossip from our most cherished people. The dishes, on the other hand, are a downside to all this that I'm still heavily weighing.
I picked up a butter knife out of the filmy water and swiped it clean with the sponge. My weight shifted to my other hip, locking it in place and causing my ass to stick out as a perfect half circle. It's no secret that I'm the hot one among all the wives between my fiancé and his buddies. We have an 11-year age difference placing me at 22 compared to his 33. While the other ladies match their husband's numbers and sink into mom sweats or spit-up covered shirts, I flash my tight booty around in yoga leggings. I wouldn't be surprised if they insecurely ogle my social media accounts. They probably sit there wondering if their partners are jerking off to the same pictures in the next room over. Who could blame them though? Even with these dark circles carved under my eyes and frizz crowning me, I still blow them out of the water. Not to mention my rather voluptuous curves.
Speaking of wives, I was surprised not to see Kenny's at all. She didn't show up with him for reasons unknown to us. Luke's family left earlier that day to get a head start on Black Friday shopping. Mary extended the offer out for me to accompany her and the girls, but I declined. I never really enjoyed her plain-Jane personality or that of her minis. She told Luke she was headed home after that and he responded by saying he'd catch her after the game. My question was which damn game? It seemed like football was just a never-ending hell eager to ruin my special time to sparkle. The TV has been booming from at least one o' clock this afternoon with scores, whistles, and car commercials.
Add that and the family we've had in and out making their rounds and you end up with a very cranky Lexi. The pattern seems to be that they stop by, build mountainous plates of food, let their kids run rampant, and then frantically sweep off to the next relatives. My soon-to-be-in-laws swung around to give us the usual quirky conversation and compliment the meal. Grandpa fell asleep on the chair only to be awoken from his slumber and whisked off with one of the sets of cousins. The chaotic day was finally coming to an end entertainment-wise. Only Luke and Kenny remained, both of which honestly weren't worth my energy to try to vacate from my house much like Fred-The-Mouse who dwells in our basement.
My maple eyes glazed over, back hunched gazing out of the window. There was delicately sweet snowfall eager to cover the leafy blanket of earth that I could just make out in the dusk. Thoughts of last night's conversation veered into my head interrupting my complaint of backaches.
Ron laid next to me in the darkness of our bedroom where we always shared our late-night chats. His hand rested high on my upper thigh, thumb stroking my vulva through my panties. I prematurely felt the arousal rush in as the silk dampened, flushed with my juices.
"Tell me a fantasy." I whispered.
He laid in silence. I assumed thinking up a steamy shower story to start our foreplay for the night. Minutes came and went before I drew the conclusion that he was not amounting to his usual witty self. I saw the gears turning in his brain while he searched for unused words in dusty piles of his cerebrum. There was a tension resting between us that I didn't quite understand.
"A real one?" He questioned, no doubt stalling.
"Uh, yeah baby. What's a dream you have of us."
"Well," He hesitated again.
This is going to be good
. I posed my fingers in their stroking position, ready for takeoff.
"The guys think you're so sexy, Lex." He gushed. The dam of stress from moments ago let loose, sending my mind in a frenzy with the crashing waves.
My fences went up. "And?" I questioned a little more defensively than I ever had before. We have always prided our relationship on open communication. It has been a trust building process from the start to spill our darkest fantasies but as a result we are a kinky, understanding, sexual couple. A pang of guilt hit me. "I'm sorry. Why are you bringing that up?"
"They were just talking about how hot you are. It makes me proud to have you. I love to show you off." He glazed his suggestion in flattery. He did not want to come out and say it.
"Baby, what's this fantasy?" I was tired of beating around the bush and slightly uncomfortable.
Even in the dark I could see the cherry red embarrassment coating Ron's cheeks. "I think about how hot it would be if you, you know, like wore little sexy stuff in front of them or if you dropped something and stuck your ass out to pick it back up. Its hot that all my friends want you. You're a tease babe." Repulsion came accompanied by an unexpected horniness that I could not cast away.
