Memorable Mistress part 2

Lost in the thought of that long hair in the breeze, those thick thighs climbing a ladder. I didn’t notice my wife had stopped talking.

She was staring at me.

“Where did you go, just now?” My wife asked as if I had just walked back into the room.

What was I going to do tell her I was day dreaming about a firm young body that made her current state look sad and depressing? Hell, no. I lied my ass off.

“Sorry babe, work stuff on my mind. Forgive me?”

“Of course.” she offered with a smile. “I should let you relax. I’ll go see the kids to bed. Did you give hugs and kisses?”

“Not yet, I’ll get to it.”

The nightly ritual was at behest of my wife. No matter how much they protest or how old they get Daddy must give them hugs and kisses before they go to bed.

After each got a snuggle and a peck, my wife led them to bed.  Luckily afterward she followed her own routine. Shower, or bath depending on her mood, then she’ll snuggle into bed with what ever cheap dollar store romance novel she picked up this week and dive her self in the fantasy world of male stripper heroes coming to sweep her off her feet until I decide to join her.


As I heard the water begin to hit the tub surround, I knew I was free to fade back into my memories.

She dressed like a country girl fresh off daddy’s farm. Blue jeans hugged her legs, and held her ass like a perfect jewel.  Her flannel button down shirt was tied at her waist, and didn’t appear to be buttoned at all. It was, however; a crude cover up for the very small tank top that attempted to cover her supple breasts.

She was a dream, come to life and to ready her for the work we had to do, I got to be her shadow for two hours.

I loved watching her move.  Each step, like one piece of a beautiful dance. She touched my hand and I thought my body was on fire. She looked up to me, and I burned for her.

Standing in the break room after her orientation I came up slowly behind her. She surprised me when she turned around.

In the sweetest voice I’ve ever heard she asked, “So are you single?”

At the time I was, not with anyone we’ll say. I was spoken for, but unclaimed. I don’t believe I ever answered her.

“Are you making an offer or just being curious?” I believe was my reply.

I slid my hands around her tiny waist, and pulled her into me.  Her sweet smell filled my breath, her warm body pressed against me.

She leaned into my neck, and gave it a small peck of a kiss. then she whispered in my ear.  “Can’t it be both curiosity, and opportunistic?”

I have no clue how long I’d been engulfed in my memory of that fair mistress, but it was long enough that my wife had returned to the living room to beckon me to bed, and I hadn’t noticed.

Her cheap novel slammed down on the coffee table, as she asked If I was sleeping in my chair or if joining her was on my schedule for the evening.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

(continued in part 3)

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