Bob Wallace: Hot fun wife

She sat on the edge of the bed, her head pounding as she recalled the night before. She forced herself not to think of Jeff and what they had done in the garage.

"Too much rum," she moaned, holding her head and padding barefoot to the shower.

Twenty minutes later, her, blonde hair fluffed dry her silky skin pink and clean, Monica returned to the bedroom. Still naked, she went to the window. It was a beautiful day. Her gaze drifted to the empty bed. She bit her lip to keep from crying.

The phone jangled, bringing her out of her depressing thoughts. She threw herself over the bed and grabbed for the phone, hoping it was Steve.

"Hi, sweetheart," Steve said. "Did you have a nice time at the party last night?"

A shudder went through her body. Jeff's face flashed in front of her. "I had a ball," she said. His carefree tone and careless attitude angered her.

"Hey, great." He paused, looking at all the work piled on his desk. "I'm sorry about not being there."

"No, you're not," she snapped.

"C'Mon, Monica, don't act childish. I got a lot of work here at the office."

"Enough to keep you there all night?" The more she talked, the angrier she became.

"I slept on the couch," he said, annoyed with her. "I'll be here all day too. Have to finish up. We'll have tomorrow together."

"Maybe I won't want to spend the day with you," she said. "I met some very nice men at the party last night. Maybe I'll spend today and tomorrow with them."

"Go to hell!" he snarled. It had been a long tedious night, and his nerves were frayed. He slammed the phone down and glared at it. "Bitch."

Monica shook. She stared hatefully at the phone, then heard the dial tone. She dropped the phone back in place then wiped a tear from her eye. Rolling onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling.

"Oh, Steve, why can't it be like before?" Her face became set with firm lines of determination. A nagging thought loomed up in the back of her mind. "He's cheating."

She rolled over on her stomach, pounded the pillow. Anger and irrational jealousy filled her.

"I can do the same." She giggled lewdly. "I did last night."

What had happened with Jeff no longer ate at her mind. It soothed it. Since Steve was doing the same thing, there was no reason why she shouldn't continue. She hauled herself out of bed.

"I have all day to have fun," she said, rummaging through her drawers looking for something revealing and sexy to wear. Illogical jealousy and constant neglect had robbed her of reason. Although she wouldn't admit it, believing Steve was cheating made her affair with Jeff last night and what she planned for today that much easier to accept.

She found what she was looking for tight purple terry shorts and matching top. Perfect.

She slipped the terry shorts up her long slender legs. The soft purple shorts clung deliciously to her round hips and tight heartshaped ass. Holding the matching top, she strode over to the full-length mirror and admired herself for a brief moment.

She liked what she saw. The shorts fit perfectly. They dug erotically into the gash of her pussy, a temptation for anyone who might look. She turned and quivered as her creamy ass cheeks peeked out from her shorts.

She sighed.

Monica slipped the top over her head, fluffed her blonde hair. One last look, then, after slipping into a pair of high-heel shoes, she left the bedroom.

She didn't know where she was going, but she knew wherever it was, it would be more fun than sitting around an empty house moping. The doorbell stopped her in her tracks as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Her heart skipped. Jeff? She shook her head, hoping it wasn't. The bell rang again.

"I'm coming," she called. She opened the door, saw Kenny Morgan standing there. "Kenny… what can I do for you?"

"Your husband told me to come over this morning. He wanted me to help him clean out the garage." His brown eyes bulged as he leered at Monica. A tremor shot through his prick. He couldn't keep his eyes off her.

Monica enjoyed Kenny's obvious pleasure. It made her feel good. "C'mon in." She stepped aside, allowing the tall muscular teenager in. "How about something to drink?" Without waiting for an answer, she took his hand and led the boy out to the kitchen.

The touch of Monica's hand excited him. His prick, crammed in his jeans, ached. He could smell her perfume, and it inflamed his young impressionable mind.

"Where's Mr. Adams?" he asked as Monica sat him down at the kitchen table.

"Steve is at the office working today," she said.

"Oh, I guess… maybe I should come back later, maybe tomorrow." He didn't want to. What he wanted to do was sit and ogle Monica the rest of the day.

"I wouldn't think of sending you home." An excitement began to build inside her. Turning this handsome boy on would not only help her to forget her troubles, it would be a blast. Teasing, that would be all. She refused to think beyond the next few minutes. If she did, she knew she would change her mind. "How about some juice?"

"Sure," Kenny said. Any excuse was welcomed. He stared at her long legs, rounded ass, and curvy hips as she headed for the refrigerator. He licked his lips, his gaze settling on the exquisite flesh of her ass, which peeked out from under her shorts. He groaned, then blushed.

"Did you say something?" She turned, caught his gaze and smiled.

"No… no…" he stammered. He tore his gaze away and looked down at his hands as they rested in his lap, covering the bulge of his cock.

Monica noticed the bulge. A prick that sure wasn't easily hidden. She brought the juice back to the table, then leaned her hip against his shoulder as she poured.

The touch of her body had Kenny's insides shaking. He wanted to grab, but didn't. His prick hurt. When she moved away to sit down, he felt a sense of relief and anguish, relief because if she hadn't moved, he would have creamed his jeans and anguish because now, sitting across the table from him, she seemed so far away.

"How much did my husband say he was going to pay you?" She stared at the young boy. The prospect of turning him on made the insides of her pussy seep.

"Ten dollars," he said, trying, but failing to keep his gaze off her pillowy tits as they strained erotically against her soft terry top.

"Since I'll be helping you, instead of Steve, you'll wind up doing more work, so I'll pay you twenty. Okay?"

"You don't have, to help," he protested. "I'll do it myself."

Monica stood and stretched, the terry top riding up, baring smooth silky flesh for the teenager to ogle. "I want to help. Now drink your juice and let's get started."

Kenny was thrilled, happy she hadn't taken him up on his suggestion. He could look at her all morning.

Monica took his hand and pulled him to his feet. Their gazes met – excitement glowed in Monica's, lust in Kenny's. She saw it and approved. It was going to be a great day.

"I guess these empty boxes should be first," Monica said, bending over, once they were in the garage. She lingered in this erotic position, feeling Kenny's gaze on her ass. She gave her hips a little wiggle and stood up, carrying the empty box from the garage.

Kenny could only gawk. The bending action had caused more fleshy ass meat to peek out from under her shirts.

Monica dropped the empty box in the driveway. She turned and caught him looking. "Are you staring at me?" She walked slowly back to the garage, tits jiggling, hips swinging, and eyes dancing with fire.

Kenny blushed. "Sorry," he mumbled. He turned, found a heavy box and picked it up.

She leaned against the station wagon and waited for Kenny to return. "You don't have to be sorry. I like having you look at me. It makes me hot." She winked, licking her lips invitingly.

Kenny was shocked, not believing he had heard right.