She giggles. My attention returns to Brad. I imagine running my hands over his muscular thighs. A sigh escapes my lips.
“Describe him to me again,” Jessica says, her tone urgent.
“You’re sick and married,” I tell her as Brad and Isaac disappear from view.
“Nothing wrong with looking,” she says. “Or hearing, in this case.”
I collapse onto the couch. I feel as if I’ve been running, and all I’ve done all day was to go out for groceries and do some cleaning.
“Have you met him? What does he do? God, this is so exciting, better than a porn movie.”
“You watch porn?” I’m horrified.
“Steamy, not porn and I watch it with David,” she says.
“I’d really love to indulge your fantasies, but I’ve got to go,” I tell Jessica as I remember Isaac’s ball that I picked up that morning from my garden.
“Hey, you can’t just go and leave me hanging,” Jessica says.
I laugh and disconnect the call. I adjust my denim shorts and a white sleeveless top. Then I get Isaac’s ball and head for the door. I try to talk myself out of it as I cross the driveway. Isaac will leave the house at some point. It’s only been two days, but I can already tell that he likes playing outside.
What if he goes out and I’m not there to give him back his ball?
I could leave the ball on their porch.
That’s just plain rude.
I do this as I go up to the door. Suggest solutions and then answer why that won’t work. Before I know it, I’m knocking on the door.
I’m about to give up when I hear footsteps from the other side of the door. It flings open, and Brad stands there smiling at me. For a few seconds, I can’t speak. He’s naked except for a towel wrapped around his middle.
“Hi,” I croak and hold out Isaac’s ball. “I found this in my garden.”
His hair is damp and matted to his scalp. Brad looks good enough to eat. He doesn’t make a move to take the ball.
“Why don’t you come in for a little while? I’m sure Isaac would love to see you.”
I want to say no, knowing I’m invading their privacy and their time together, but the communication between my brain and mouth is off. I nod and smile. And then I do the stupidest thing. I drop my gaze to the front of his towel. I see the outline of his cock.
It jerks. I think. I’m not sure whether it’s my lusty imagination, or it actually moved. All I can tell is that it’s big. I drag my gaze to his face, and to my embarrassment, Brad is staring at me. My face heats, and I’m sure he knows that I spent half the night fantasizing about him fucking me. Madness. I know.
“Sure, just for a little bit,” I say quickly to cover up my shame.
I step into the foyer and immediately notice how big their house is. Much bigger than mine. I look around appreciatively.
“Give me a few to put something on,” Brad says as he shows me to the living room.
The house is tastefully furnished with deep comfortable chairs, a couch, and a gorgeous coffee table in the middle. A few rugs are arranged on the hardwood floor, and a few photographs hang from the wall.
One of the photographs is of a younger Isaac with his parents kneeling on each side of him. Sadness comes over me as I look at the pretty redhead who must have been Brad’s wife. I feel dirty, and I immediately regret my decision to come over.
His wife is dead, and here I am, already clamoring for her man. Sick, that’s what I am. I make a move to stand.
“Mila!” Isaac shouts as he comes into the room.
“Hi, Isaac,” I say. “Going for a swim?” He’s in swimming shorts, and a small towel is flung across his shoulder.
“Yes,” he said and grins. He’s a gorgeous boy. His smile is contagious, and I smile back. “Do you want to swim too?”
I shake my head. “Another time. I could watch, though?”
He nods. “Okay.”
His dad joins us, and I try to keep my gaze away from his ripped chest. Isaac told me he was a fireman, and I wonder if he would be averse to putting out the fire in my pussy. The photograph pulls me again, and I shut down my filthy thoughts.
I trail after them through the kitchen to the back door.