If I described my wife, I would have to use
words such as loving, loveable, kind, generous, friendly, adventurous,
intelligent, and decisive. I would have to include descriptive terms such as
sexy, hot blooded, passionate, leggy, built like a brick shit-house (even
though I do not understand that term), wild, wicked, and wonderful. Of course
she is beautiful.
I would have to mention she graduated from a very nice
college with honors. I would have to mention that she always has been a perfect
wife and partner. She is involved in
civic affairs. She has never failed to vote in national, state, or local
elections. She keeps abreast of what's going on in the world.
I am, I suppose, like a lot of husbands because I see my
wife as near perfection. The difference in me and other men is my wife, Amy
Grant, is nearly perfect. She is the best part of me, period.
Obviously that is not the end of this story. It's just a
beginning because my wife doesn't see herself as I do. She sees flaws in herself where there are no
flaws.
My name is Rex Grant and since I'm not stupid I realize
that Amy has some minor flaws. They are little tiny inconspicuous things that
do not even need to be mentioned; a few little things and one larger detail.
It's that larger thing that brings me to the story. My wife is hot! Very, very
hot. So sexual she sizzles.
Some may not see that as a flaw and mostly it's not a
defect. Amy and I have been married for three years and a few months. I haven't actually figured it out on paper,
but in the one thousand and some days since we tied the knot we have engaged in
some type of sex at least once a day. Some days when she is feeling particularity
frisky, more than once.
I'm not complaining because most of the time I can keep
up with her demands and perhaps even exceed them. We both have a high libido
and our sex drive is usually in sync.
Now I suppose I should attempt to describe me. I could
use words such as Adonis, Greek god-like, intelligent, handsome, and hung. I
could use all those words but that would be a barefaced lie. I am in fair
physical condition because I engage in sports and workout. I am not bad
looking. Some of the fairer sex has described me as rugged looking. Now, as far as being hung, I'm about
average. At least in my mind I am. I suppose my best attribute is that Amy loves
me. I don't need anything else to make me complete. I had no clue that major
changes were on the horizon. It started when we agreed to hire a professional
painter to come and paint our new apartment before we moved in.
My small publishing business had finally started make us
enough money to move up. I inherited the business from my uncle after he died
and none of his children wanted it. I inherited by default I guess. It was
basically a one man show. One man and Amy taking care of the secretarial and
receptionist duties. My uncle published a couple titles a year. Since taking
over I managed to get that up to ten titles last year and luckily, they all did
well. Hence the new apartment.
Amy had taken the say off to supervise the painting so
when I could get away I went to the new place to see how it was going. I let myself in the unfurnished place and
sniffed the paint fumes that filled the air. I followed the sound of voices to
the dining room. I found Amy and two men there.
Amy was wearing a pair of baggy shorts with very loose
legs and a sweatshirt that had been modified. By modified I mean she had
whacked it with a pair of scissors. The sleeves were missing to the shoulders
and the bottom two-thirds also was missing.
Amy was two steps up a ladder pointing to the light fixture. I don't
know what she was point at, but the two men's attention was centered on the bottom
half of her breasts and her completely exposed pussy.
"How's it going?" I asked.
"Hi honey," Amy said not coming down from her exposed
position. "It's going great. I want to replace this light fixture and Clarence
said he could do it for us. Is that okay with you?" I said it was fine with me.
When Amy turned to talk to me I could see that it was more than just the bottom
half of her boobs that were visible.
It was obvious that Amy was enjoying herself because she
was flushed and her eyes were sparkling. She knew the two men could see her
charms and she didn't care!
"That is Clarence, the owner, and that is Juan his
helper," Amy said jumping down from the ladder. Clarence was a white man and
Juan was obviously a Hispanic. I shook hands with both of them. "Come on and
let me show you the bedrooms," Amy said grabbing my hand and pulling me with
her.
"Nice," I said looking at the newly painted walls and
ceiling. I even managed to look interested which I wasn't.
"Do you like this color? It's ivory. I thought about
going a shade darker. What do you think, Rex?"
"I think you have on no bra or panties," I said. "Got a
little severe with the scissors, didn't you?" I asked flipping the shirt up and
grasping her hard nipple. "Your painters seemed to enjoy the view."
"You think so?" she said giggling. "It always pays
dividends to keep the galley slaves happy." I could tell Amy was aroused. She
was getting off showing off for the paint crew. I had no idea that Amy was an
exhibitionist. In all the time we had been together, she had never shown any
tendency toward it so you can imagine my surprise.
"I also think it's a good thing I arrived when I did," I
said running my hand up the leg of her shorts. Her pussy was wet.
"Nothing was going to happen," she said with a catch in
her voice when my finger found her extended clitoris. "I was just giving the
boys a little show." I wasn't sure that was the case, but I didn't say
anything.
"We're leaving now, Mrs. Grant," Clarence said. "We'll be
back bright and early tomorrow morning to finish the job."
"That's fine, Clarence," Amy said quickly backing away
from my probing fingers. "I'll go in the morning and get a light for you to
install."
***
"You should be careful teasing men like that," I told Amy
that night. We were in bed and about to get down to some serious lovemaking.
"That's a good way to get fucked."
"Oh? I'll keep that in mind," she said taking my cock in
her hand. "Would it bother you if I did?"
That was a good question. A very good question. Would it
bother me? The answer came as a surprise to me that it wouldn't bother me very
much. I suddenly found myself thinking
about Amy being hosed by Clarence or Juan.
"Yes, it would kill me," I answered giving her the answer
I though she wanted to hear. I stopped the conversation and bit down on one of
her nipples; harder then I normally did causing her to gasp and moan.
Nothing more was said about it for several days. Clarence
and company finished their jobs and left. The movers came, got our furniture,
and moved it to the new apartment. Amy stayed busy arranging and rearranging
the furniture for another couple of days. Things finally settled down to our
old routine, but I did think about it. I could easily visualize Amy in the arms
of another man. I could see her with her legs open and ready to take his cock.