Almost midnight. Funny how you can tell time by the goings-on.

Martha Turnbuckle finishes her trite about the day’s news; more ‘what’s trending’ than actual news, or so it seems. I down the last of my beer while staring at her cleavage on the screen as I ponder whether or not to have one more round.

The anchor starts to wrap up with some witty nonsense, while my wife finishes the dishes or whatever she’s doing in the kitchen. Usually, she turns out the light soon after the news ends and heads to bed. Another typical Friday night.

It wasn't always like this. 

When we first got together we were young and in love, couldn't keep our hands off each other. It got to the point that the days of the week just seemed to blend. Swimming through a deep torrent of sexual deviance, I knew.

We got married and soon found our forever home. But, it didn't take long before the wave of adulthood came crashing down on us. It was expected, we both knew this wasn't going to be a walk in the park. 

What we didn’t foresee was how everything would change like it did. The house turned out to have more problems than first anticipated. I had to take on more hours at the shop and she took a part time job. Whatever time we got at home was spent fixing it up. 

Weeks seemed to pass like days, and soon melted into months. Life’s little interruptions were growing more consistent. Minutia. Stolen moments were few and far between. Sex was just as rare and when it did happen, clothes were usually left on for convenience. 

Time passed quickly. Summer turned to fall and skipped right on to Christmas. Holidays and birthdays came and went and we were cruising on autopilot. 

Now here we are, another Friday night and I just finished off my beer. Martha and weatherman Dan are making awkward small talk when I notice the kitchen light go off. I wait to get up. I know in less than a minute she will come up beside me and kiss me goodnight.

It’s the one thing at the end of the day that keeps us, us. I look forward to it.

A few minutes pass and she has yet to emerge from the kitchen. I turn the TV off and listen for her. Nothing. Swirling the liquid around the glass bottle, I decide it’s time to get up and see what she is up to. 

The hall splits two ways after climbing a few stairs from the family room, I glance towards our bedroom thinking maybe she forgot. Running through the events of today, I wonder if my uncensored mouth got me in trouble again. But, the light was still off. 

“Honey?” I call down the hall.

“Shh.” 

Turning my head towards the kitchen, I notice the stove light is on. She usually leaves it on for me when she decides to go to bed early. 

Walking through the short hallway, I'm greeted with the lingering scent of fresh paint, last night's project. That fades as cucumber mint fills my lungs, her favourite candle flickers on the kitchen table as I enter. 

She’s leaning over the kitchen sink, her ass juts out as her back slightly arches. The fabric of her nightshirt flows over her cheeks giving view to the outline of her panties. Catching sight causes my mouth to water, reminding me what I came here for. I head to the fridge.  

Digging through the icebox, I navigate the Tupperware maze in search of my prize, the last beer. I take note of the leftover lasagna for a midnight snack when I hear a groan followed by a clatter, a dish maybe. 

The abrupt noise grabs my attention and I jolt up, smacking the back of my head on the freezer door. ‘Fuck.’

Clenching my jaw, I hiss through my teeth doing my best not to swear as a line of profanities flow to the tip of my tongue. The cold beer acts as a make-shift ice pack to soothe the sting as I turn my head to look in her direction. 

A soft glow from the open fridge silhouettes her figure through the thin material. On her tiptoes, she reaches to open up the window. Her nipples are erect, pushing against the cotton nightgown. 

‘Why open the window if you’re already cold?’ I wonder as I slowly make my way to her. My curiosity outweighs the need to grumble about it being open when it’s raining outside.

Standing behind her now, I notice something I hadn't before, she’s slowly pushing her hips into the countertop. ‘And that’s why she’s on her tiptoes…’ 

I hold back a smirk and set my beer on the counter, remembering a conversation we had when we first moved in. 

“The perfect fit,” she had said.

It was the first night in the house and she sat on the island as we lazily unpacked. “Oh?” I replied when I pushed between her legs.

“Mhmm.” She then wrapped them around my waist, keeping me close. She'd been a tease all day so I knew when I pressed my fingers into her supple ass and pulled her to the edge she could feel that familiar bulge.

Half-unpacked boxes were scattered about. We barely had anything to our name then. Neither of us cared. 

She cradled my jaw and whispered against my lips before they connected, “I love you, you know.”  

I answer her though the kiss, deep, passionate.   

We went on and proved her perfect fit theory right, completely oblivious to the pizza guy banging at our door. Lost in each other. Lost in the moment. 

That was all that mattered then.

‘What happened to that part of us?’

I’m brought back to the moment by another soft sigh coming from her direction. 

‘What’s out there that’s got her so captivated?’ I lean in, slightly pushing her hips into the granite. She moans this time.

The neckline of her thin nightshirt hangs off of her shoulder in a way that catches my eye, drawing my lips to leave a gentle kiss. My gaze follows the curve of her neck, then along her jawline. The rest of her face is hushed by the shadows of the night. 

Watching her stare out the window with such intensity sets off a warmth in me I haven't felt in a long time. I feel a tightening at the base of my cock. Pulling my gaze from her, I turn my attention to the window, needing to know what has her so fixated.

Then I see it.

‘No fucking way…’ 

The park that’s usually empty at this time of night, now has visitors. At first glance, it appears to be a man standing with their dick out. But, the more I look, I realize their shirt is soaked through, exposing a gorgeous set of tits. This he is very much a she. 

The rain is steady and I can see it is matting the hair of the girl sitting on the swing. ‘Does that mean… Is that one of those?’ My thought suspends as my jaw drops. She seems to be looking up at the girl standing in front of her. Leaning forward the chains groan as she takes the phallic object between her lips, giving her girl head. 

I'm not naive to what's going on, and clearly, neither is my wife. Feeling that familiar stir start to rise, I try to adjust without losing much contact. It only intensifies as she pushes her ass back into me. 

My focus moves back to the girls in the park. I squint my eyes and catch the one in the t-shirt’s facial expression change, her eyes wide and mouth gaping open. She seems to be mesmerized by what her girl is currently doing, just as spellbound as us.  

‘Oh, how I know that look.’ Thinking back to all the blowjobs I’ve gotten in my time. My wife used to love giving them. I sigh; more at the thought of her lips wrapped around my shaft then what the girls are doing at the park.

But, tit for tat and I’ve been lazy in that department. 

I hear something faint coming through the window and it hits me to why she opened it. The way these houses were built, the echo, no matter how far away in the park, carries through this window making everything sound like it’s in our front yard.  

Placing my left hand on her side, I lean in trying to get a better look. My cock, now hard and straining against its confines, pushes against her ass. She lets out another soft moan as I reach out and slide the window open the rest of the way. 

The distinct sound of a giggle cuts through the water dripping from the eaves and into the rain barrel. I catch my wife grin. I know she feels my excitement growing by the way she sways her hips back into me. There is an energy building between us, I can feel it radiating off of her. 

Something I haven't felt in a long time.

She turns her ear towards the window and the dim light highlights the look of curiosity strewn across her face. Her eyebrow raises and I watch the little wrinkles forming on her forehead. Her bottom lip quivers before catching it, biting down. 

‘Does she like to watch?’ My fingers dig into her side and I press myself between her cheeks to let her feel me.  As her lips part and breath hitches, I can't help but think I still have a lot to discover about this woman.

I hold the thought a moment longer before my attention is brought back to the girls. The one wearing the soaked t-shirt is now turned around picking up her partner, her hands vanishing under the girl's skirt.

My wife's breath softens, each one slow and drawn-out. Knowing exactly why, I do the same. We want to hear more through the window and with it raining, we need to be as quiet as possible. 
 
Slowly, I trace my hands down her thighs until I reach the bottom of her nightgown and lift the light fabric. As I do, I let my fingertips glide along her skin till they reach the hem of her cotton panties. She wiggles her hips encouragingly and a current flows through me, my heart pumping faster the further my fingers travel. 

Reaching between her legs, my hand cups where the crotch of her panties cradles her pussy. She’s soaked through them, my fingers coating with evidence as I give a hard squeeze. In all the years we have been together, I can only remember a handful of times she’s been this dripping wet. Even fewer times it’s happened before I even touched her. 

With my free hand, I loosen the strings to my sweats and let them drop to the floor. 

She leans forward completely focusing on the two girls, like she’s trying to make out what they are saying. When she does, my cock slides between her legs and I let out a deep sigh as it’s met with her warmth.

My length now rests against the dripping fabric and I slowly rock my hips as the two girls settle on the swing. The more I push, the more the fabric gathers between her lips and forms around my head. Her sweetness starts to drip down my cock, rolling over the tip.

Rain continues to pour down on the girls but they seem unfazed. The girl on top presses her forearms into her partner and looks down. Her long hair cloaks their faces but I notice a hand disappear between them. In the same fashion, I reach between us and pull the drenched fabric to the side and align the tip with her opening. 

At this moment the room becomes still, even the sound of the rain is muted in anticipation. Our breath held; we wait.  

The wind picks up, catching the edge of the girl's skirt, lifting it and giving us a clear view of her sliding down the plastic cock. That same breeze flows through our window, carrying with it the muffled sounds of the girls. Its cool air kisses our heated flesh, enhancing that rush as I enter my wife for the first time in months.

Her velvet walls engulf my cock and tighten around it. I vaguely remember her talking about the benefit of kegel exercises and I have to agree as she starts massaging my shaft.

Neither of us dare move until the swing starts to sway. 

The one on the bottom slowly starts to pump her legs back and forth. With every pump of the swing, I slide my cock out before pushing back into her on their way down. Up and out, down and deep. At first, our rhythm matched, but quickly our own need takes over. 

My fingers press into her flesh as she grinds back into me. Driving deeper, her head drops to her arm as her hands grip the sink. Not wanting to take away from their already muffled sounds, she tries to stifle her moans by biting down.

The higher they swing, the closer we get. The thunder fades as their moans grow, finally breaking my wife of her silence. She whimpers along with them and I chime in with a hungry growl.

With each “Yes” coming from the park, my wife whispers “Harder...” She reaches back and for the first time tonight I feel her touch. Her nails now scraping along the flesh on my ass, causing me to bear down harder.

Then we hear it, so loud and so clear, over the thrum of the rain, like there was a break in the storm just for us, their secret audience to witness. 

“Oh… Ayla.” The ‘a’ at the end of her name lingering in the air. 

Lightning streaks across the black background, illuminating the sky. That split second, before the light leaves as fast as it came, I witness the girl’s face strain as the strobe of lightning sears it into memory. A look of pure orgasmic bliss, the same look my wife wears in the reflection of the kitchen window.

Her look sends me to the edge, I reach up, fingers wrap around the nape of her neck, slowly sliding up. She responds by using her pulsating walls, trying to desperately coax it from me. She’s just as needy as I am. Taking a deep breath, I do my best to hold back my climax, wanting hers. My grip tightens and fingertips dig deeper into her hip, knowing she will see the bruises tomorrow. A faint "Yes" mixes in with her moans.

A sweetness fills the room; petrichor with a hint of our arousal. Her walls tremble around my length and I can feel that fresh warmth hit the tip of my pulsating cock. My jaw clenches as the tightness finally becomes too much. Holding deep inside her, I fill her with my pleasure.

She lays her head on her forearm and I lay my forehead on her back, both of us trying to catch our breath. We stay like this, connected, until another breeze flows through the window. This time my wife reaches forward and closes it. 

We see the girls beginning to gather themselves and I straighten up, taking a step back realizing what had just happened. Two strangers somehow just sparked a fizzling flame. 

Without saying anything she turns and takes those few steps towards me. The look in her eye holds an intensity that penetrates deep to my core. Her eyes drift down, mine follow, I watch as she drags her fingernail along the bottom of my softening shaft, raising it back to full attention.  She flicks it off the tip, taking with a translucent string of my cum and brings it to her lips. 

Turning, she slowly strolls out of the kitchen, only to pause at the doorway and peel her nightgown off, letting it fall where it may. 

She stands there in her white cotton panties, breathtaking. I drink her in. It suddenly dawns on me how much she's changed in the last year, she's been doing more than just Kegel exercises. 

Her finger raises back up to her lips and she turns back to flash that smirk. As they part and the tip of it disappears, she saunters towards the bedroom. 

Pulling off my shirt, I look down at my growing beer belly, a reminder of how much time has passed in the monotony of the everyday. ‘Tomorrow, I dust off the bench.’ 

Turning off the stove light, I follow my wife to bed.

I can’t help but wonder who those women were. In some weird way, two strangers reminded me of who I am with her, who we are together. I feel an overwhelming need to thank them.

*If you're curious about what they were watching through that kitchen window, be sure check out Truth or Dare.