Jess woke up Saturday morning satisfied in a way she hadn’t felt in months. A lazy smile tugged at her lips as flashes of last night played in her mind like scenes from a porno. She remembered her own desperate cries as Tom manhandled her, the way he’d taken her again and again until they both collapsed from exhaustion.

For those precious hours, their problems had disappeared, hungry kisses and desperate touches replacing them. No mortgages, no tenants, no work, just husband and wife, skin on skin, breath on breath, two bodies remembering their old rhythm.

She rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand to study Tom’s peaceful sleeping face. At rest, the usual tension had melted away, making him look younger and more carefree, reminding her of the young man she’d first met in college. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered softly. She’d needed this reminder that beneath the distracted husband buried in spreadsheets and work emails lurked the same man who once couldn’t keep his hands off her.

Jess glanced at the clock. In less than half an hour, Bob would arrive to move in downstairs. The thought of their new tenant’s imminent arrival should’ve sparked anxiety, but after last night’s intimacy, it felt less threatening. Her body was too relaxed, too satiated to harbor any real concern. Still, she’d have to adjust. Their world was about to change whether they were ready or not.

Tom stirred beside her, his eyes fluttering open to find his wife watching him. “Mmm… morning beautiful,” he mumbled, rolling to face her. He lazily reached for her, his palm sliding down to cup her ass, pulling her closer towards him.

“God, you’re absolutely insatiable,” she laughed, deliberately grinding her thigh against his morning wood.

“Says the woman who kept begging for more,” he teased. He playfully mimicked her breathless pleas from the night before, “Harder Tom! Deeper! Don’t stop! Don’t you dare fucking stop!”

Jess laughed and blushed, burying her face in his chest. Those passionate cries hadn’t been about physical pleasure alone. They’d been a release of pent-up frustration and longing that had been building for months.

His hand moved to her breasts, softly squeezing, his touch was now gentle where it had been demanding hours before. “You were so fucking loud last night,” he continued. “Good thing Bob isn’t moved in yet. These walls aren’t that thick.”

The thought of their soon-to-be tenant hearing her screams sent an unexpected jolt through his body. He tilted her chin upward and kissed her while his hands explored as if they had all the time in the world. She let herself melt into it, let herself forget the clock ticking on her nightstand, but when his hand drifted to the waistband of her panties, she caught his wrist.

“Bob’s coming at noon,” she reminded him.

He sighed and let his head fall back onto the pillow. “Of course he is.”

“You’re cute when you pout,” she said, crawling out from under the covers and crossing the room. She could feel his eyes on her as she deliberately made a show of stretching.

“Christ, Jess…” he said from the bed.

She flashed him a smile over her shoulder. “You coming? Or do I get all the hot water to myself?’

He didn’t need to be told twice.

—

Jess had always loved showering with Tom. She loved sharing the confined space, pressing up against him, feeling his hands explore her body.

Their shower ritual dated back to their college days. Even then, there’d been something uniquely intimate about sharing that confined space, about being completely bare, with nothing to hide behind. Every scar, every imperfection was exposed under the bathroom light.

Their showers had evolved into something deeper now. It was a place where the outside world couldn’t intrude. Sometimes they’d make love, but more often than not they’d simply wash and care for one another’s bodies.

The memory of their first shared shower remained vivid in Jess’ mind. She’d been self-conscious at first, worried about him seeing her without makeup. But Tom had looked at her bare face and whispered “You’re so fucking beautiful” with such raw honesty that her insecurities had melted away. That vulnerability, that complete exposure to each other, had formed a cornerstone of their relationship.

Jess reached for the bar of soap, but Tom took it from her. “Let me,” he said, his voice carrying a gentle command.

His hands moved slowly over her body, lathering her back, and moving down to her ass. When she turned to face him, his eyes were locked on to hers.

“You’re staring,” she said.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” he replied.

Before she could respond his lips were on hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. But somewhere in the back of her mind, she still registered the faint rumble of a truck engine outside.

“Shit,” she muttered, pulling away. “That’s him.”

Tom sighed, resting his forehead against hers. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

They scrambled out of the shower as the intimate moment evaporated.

Jess slid her tiny black tong up her long legs and then fastened the matching bra as her breasts filled the cups.

“Jesus, Jess,” he groaned as she bent over to pull on her yoga pants.

“Focus,” she replied, pulling an oversized t-shirt over her head.

They moved to the window and peered outside, where Bob’s F-150 sat in their driveway. Its faded blue paint and well-earned dents looked completely out of place next to Tom’s Lexus and her Tesla.

They watched as Bob unloaded his truck, moving unexpectedly fluidly for a man his age and size. Between loads Bob paused, hands resting on his hips, calculating eyes sweeping across what was his new domain.

“Not much stuff,” Tom observed, noting a surprisingly sparse collection in the truck bed. Sturdy boxes, heavy-duty metal shelving units, a grill, and a large suitcase completed the humble inventory. “For someone his age, you’d think there’d be… more.”

“Maybe he’s learned to travel light,” Jess murmured, though part of her did wonder. Two divorces had to leave some sort of baggage, even if it wasn’t visible in the truck bed. She found herself curious about what kind of women his ex-wives had been.

“Let’s go say hello,” Tom suggested, stepping away from the window.

They made their way downstairs and through the front door, coming out into the warmth and bright sunshine.

“Afternoon, Bob,” Tom called out, stepping forward with his hand extended. “Welcome to your new home.”

Bob straightened up, wiping his palm across his jeans before gripping Tom’s hand in a firm handshake. “Afternoon,” he rumbled, his eyes flickering to Jess as she offered a warm smile. “Nice day for moving.”

“Need a hand?” Tom offered.

Bob paused for a moment and conducted a quick assessment of Tom’s physique. “Think you can manage this one?” he asked, gesturing toward what had to be one of the heavy boxes.

Tom didn’t miss a beat, letting out a quick laugh. “I’ll give it my best shot,” he replied.

Bob turned his attention to Jess. His expression softened, and with a level of care, he handed her a smaller box labeled ‘KITCHEN.’ “And you, ma’am, get the fragile stuff. No offense.”

“None taken,” Jess said lightly, adjusting the box in her arms.

Tom and Jess made their way to the side of the house where Bob’s new private entrance was located. Inside, Jess set her box on the kitchen counter while Tom placed the heavier case near the wall.

She then moved to the windows and raised the blinds, allowing natural light to flood the space, highlighting the finishes she’d selected.

“The light in here’s gorgeous,” she commented.

“Yeah, it makes this space feel bigger.”

“That was the goal.” She paused, considering the space through their new tenant’s eyes. “But I have a feeling Bob might rearrange things.”

They shared a look before heading back outside where Bob removed more things from his truck.

The unit transformed with each trip. His battered coffee maker took up residence on the countertop. His tools took up space on the floor of the spare bedroom.

Bob revealed an unexpected gentleness with his grill, pulling a rag from his back pocket and wiping down the surface before wheeling it toward his entrance.

With the last of the items moved in, they gathered around the dining table. “Let’s get the paperwork squared away,” Jess suggested as she spreading out the documents.

“Sure thing. Let’s make it official,” Bob commented, already reaching for the pen. His writing was neat and controlled, at odds with his rough exterior. The scratch of his pen against paper was the only sound until Tom cleared his throat.

“Keys,” Tom prompted, and Jess snapped into action.

“Right.” She passed over the ring of keys. “Front door and back entrance.”

Bob then reached into his back pocket and pulled out a thick leather wallet, worn and weathered like everything else about him.

“Here’s the rent and deposit.” He counted out three thousand in hundreds and laid them on the table. “Two thousand for the month, one for damage.”

Tom’s eyes lit up at the sight of the cash, a mixture of relief and excitement evident in his expression. Each bill represented another small step toward financial recovery. He reached for the cash, folded the bills, and slipped them into his pocket.

Tom then pulled Jess close and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. Bob’s eyes flickered to them watching the display.

“Well, let us know if you need anything,” Jess offered with a warm smile. “We’re usually around on weekends.”

“Will do.” Bob replied. “I’ll start settling in and maybe tackle some of that unpacking.”

Tom extended his hand with a friendly nod. “Again, welcome to the house, Bob. Looking forward to having you here.”

Bob’s handshake was firm and solid like the man himself. “Yeah, well… guess I should say thanks for lettin’ me crash here.”

The laundry room took on new meaning as they passed through it. The space served as a connecting hub with three exits: the door they’d just entered through leading back to Bob’s apartment, a door leading to their garage, and a third connecting to the main house where the stairs led up to their private sanctuary.

Tom was careful to lock this last door behind them. The soft click represented more than just security. It was the sound of their world being divided into ‘ours’ and ‘his’.

“That went well,” Tom said, his voice light but carrying a trace of relief as they ascended the stairs back to their space.

“Yeah,” Jess agreed, following behind. “It feels… right. Like everything’s finally starting to move in the direction we wanted.”

Upstairs, Tom wrapped his arms around Jess and pulled her close enough that she could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her ear. “We’re good,” he murmured.

Jess tilted her head back, meeting his eyes. “Yeah… we are.”

The moment was short-lived. Reality, as it always seemed to, intruded in the form of Tom’s phone buzzing in his pocket. His mouth twitched into an apologetic half-smile before he pulled the device out, frowning at the screen.

“Davis,” he said, already swiping to open the notification. “Meridian’s getting anxious about the timeline … I have to check this.”

Jess gave him a smile, stepping back just enough to let him go. “It’s fine,” she said, meaning it. After he had satisfied her so deeply last night, she couldn’t bring herself to complain.

But she knew how this worked, how work always had a way of creeping in, stealing these small moments whenever it could. “Just two hours, right?”

“Just two hours,” Tom promised, though they both knew it could easily stretch longer. He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “Then I’m all yours.”

Jess laughed and nudged him toward his office. “Go on, then, workaholic. The sooner you start, the sooner you finish.”

He grinned at that, flashing her a look that was all charm and boyishness before disappearing into his office. The door closing behind him left Jess alone in the quiet of their house.

Standing in the hallway, Jess’ smile faded. The sound of the door closing shut was too familiar, yet another unfinished moment between them. She understood, of course she did. The promotion, their financial recovery, their future family, all hinged on his dedication to work. But understanding didn’t make the constant interruptions any easier to bear.

—

In their master bathroom, Jess studied her reflection with the critical eye of someone who acutely understood the power of presentation. She applied a touch of gloss to her lips, then slipped off the oversized T-shirt and slid on a sports bra, adjusting the straps carefully to ensure a calculated amount of cleavage.

She swept her blonde hair into a high ponytail and adjusted it, allowing a few strands to fall loose in a way that appeared unintentional but was anything but.

The black Lululemon leggings she’d put on earlier were like a second skin. The high waist emphasized her tiny waist and the curves of her hips while it clung to her ass with almost obscene perfection. Her outfit walked that line between athletic functionality and raw sex appeal, a balance she’d mastered long ago.

She glanced at her wedding ring as she reached for her water bottle and gym bag. It felt right, grounding her in the commitment they’d renewed so thoroughly last night.

“Heading to the gym,” Jess called toward Tom’s office. She heard his muffled acknowledgment through the door followed by the sound of rapid-fire typing. She smiled. Her passionate man was in work mode but that was okay. She knew exactly how to bring him back out when she wanted to. Besides, she thought, sometimes a little distance made the reunion sweeter. Last night had proved that much at least.

The drive to Elite Fitness was quick. When she pulled into the parking lot, it was half-full. Not so empty she’d feel exposed and not so crowded she’d have to wait for equipment. Just the way she liked it.

The heavy glass doors parted as she made her entrance. The clang of weights and whir of cardio machines created a familiar backdrop, punctuated by occasional grunts of effort and the sound of pop music from overhead speakers.

At the front desk, the young attendant’s eyes widened slightly as Jess scanned her membership card. She pretended not to notice his gaze as she headed towards the separate women’s section.

For the next half hour, Jess moved through her routine, legs and core today.

She started with squats, thighs burning as she pushed through a high number of reps. The muscle fatigue was amplified by the effects of straddling Tom last night.

Romanian deadlifts followed as she bent forward with her legs straight, stretching her hamstrings while putting her ass on display. The position reminded her of being bent over the kitchen counter.

The Bulgarian split squats proved especially challenging. Her legs shook more than usual as she lowered herself down, partly from the intense exercise and partly from the previous night’s exertions.

She finished with core work, though her abs were already somewhat fatigued. Each plank and Russian twist showed off her flat stomach and defined waist while intensifying the pleasant soreness that permeated her body.

Jess then made her way to her preferred spot in the cardio section. The spot offered a nice view of the entire gym floor while keeping her somewhat removed from the main traffic areas. The mirrors in front and beside her reflected her form as she started jogging.

For thirty minutes, she maintained a brisk pace and a focused mind. Each stride was purposeful, and her breathing remained controlled but heavy.

Her chest rose and fell in a hypnotic rhythm that drew wandering eyes like moths to flame. She’d caught more than a few men stumbling through their sets, their eyes glancing at her. Even a trainer helping a client kept stealing glances. She didn’t acknowledge the attention but there was something deeply satisfying about knowing she could disrupt an entire gym’s workout routine without even trying.

Her eyes drifted to the free weights section where Brandon dominated the space with his impressive physique. He was impossible to miss, standing six-foot-three, with lean muscle carved by countless hours in the gym. His tank top was damp with sweat, showing off his chiselled arms, while black athletic shorts revealed his thick quads. He looked like he’d stepped out of a fitness magazine cover shoot, and he knew it.

Their eyes met and Brandon’s signature smirk appeared instantly. Oh great, here we go, she thought as he set down a dumbbell and made his way over to her treadmill.

“Well fuck me sideways,” Brandon drawled, propping himself against the adjacent machine. “If it isn’t Jessica Marshall herself, making the rest of us mere mortals look bad. Didn’t think I’d run into you today.”

“Really?” Jess rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t quite suppress a smile. “That’s your opening line today? You’re losing your touch, Brandon.”

“Sweetheart, my touch is just fine.” His grin turned wolfish. “Just ask Madi about-.”

“Brandon,” Jess interrupted, shaking her head. “Do you ever say normal things?”

“Depends. Would ‘hi, how’s your day?’ get me the same reaction?”

“Probably. Try it sometime. Anyway, I’m here all the time. Shouldn’t be that surprising.”

“Oh, believe me,” his eyes remained on her chest, making no attempt to hide his appreciation for her body. “It’s always a pleasant surprise when you’re here.”

“You think that line’s gonna work on me?” she teased, shaking her head.

“Just calling it like I see it.” he replied. His eyes made a deliberately slow journey down her body and paused at her magnificent ass. “I have to say, those leggings are gonna give some poor bastard a heart attack.”

“My eyes are up here, buddy boy.”

“Can’t blame a man for admiring art… and you, Mrs. Marshall… are a masterpiece.”

Jess laughed. “You did not just say that… do you practice these lines in the mirror, or do they just come naturally?”

“Pure talent, baby,” he replied, turning to the mirror and doing a front double bicep bodybuilding pose. “Speaking of natural talents…”

“Stop right there,” she warned. “I don’t need to hear about your ‘talents’. Madi’s already overshared enough.”

“Oh?” His features took on that infuriatingly confident look. “And what exactly has our friend been telling you?”

“Nothing that needs repeating,” she replied.

“Where’s the fun in that?” He shifted closer and the corner of his mouth lifted in that way that made her want to slap him. “By the way, there’s something different about you today. You’re… glowing. Tommy must’ve finally remembered what that gorgeous body of yours is for.”

Heat crept up her neck. “Uh, just… a good workout,” she managed.

“Uh-huh.” Brandon’s smirk said he wasn’t buying it. “Nothing to do with why you’re walking a little different today?”

“Brandon!” The protest came automatically, but inside her mind raced. Was it obvious? Could he really tell just by looking that she’d been thoroughly fucked last night?

“What? Just making an observation. But if Tommy’s not treating you properly…”

“Don’t you have someone else to annoy?”

“Plenty of options,” he agreed easily. “But watching you pretend to ignore me is the highlight of my day.”

“I don’t pretend to ignore you. I actively ignore you. There’s a difference.”

“See? That right there, that sharp tongue. It’s exactly why I find you so fascinating.”

“Fascinating?” she turned to face him with one eyebrow raised. “Is that what you’re calling it now?”

Brandon stepped closer. “What would you call it?” His voice dropped lower. “This thing between us?”

“There is no ‘thing’ between us,” Jess said. “There’s you, being annoying, and me, tolerating it because you’re Tom’s friend.”

“Mmm,” Brandon hummed. “Is that why your pulse speeds up when I get close? Because you’re tolerating me?”

“My pulse speeds up because you’re irritating,” she shot back, but there was no real venom in it.

“Right there! The way you pretend to hate me while your eyes say something completely different. It’s fascinating.”

“And what exactly do my eyes say, Brandon?”

He stepped even closer. “They say you enjoy our little dance. That maybe you’ve thought about that drink I keep offering. Just admit you’re curious.”

“Curious about what?” Jess challenged but she knew what he meant.

“About what would happen if you stopped pretending.” His eyes held hers, unblinking. “About whether all this tension we generate could be put to better use.”

“That’s your friend’s wife you’re ogling.”

Brandon grinned. “Tommy knows exactly who I am. I’ve never pretended to be anything else. Besides, he knew exactly what he signed up for when he married a smokeshow like you… so when are you finally gonna let me buy you that drink?”

“Like I said, still married, still not interested.”

“You know, just because you’re married doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun conversation now and then” he said with a slow grin spreading across his face. “Or are you just scared you’d like it too much?”

“Goodness, Brandon.”

When the treadmill beeped its final warning and slowed to a stop, Jess grabbed her water bottle and took a gulp. She barely noticed the stray droplet trailing down her throat to disappear between her breasts, until she caught Brandon’s smirk. Brandon’s eyes had followed its path.

“You’ve got an ego the size of this gym, you know that?” she said, twisting the cap back onto her water bottle.

“Just matching the size of everything else about me,” Brandon countered, earning a genuine laugh from Jess.

“Good one,” she replied, gathering her things. “Well, this has been fun, but I’m done with my workout. Goodbye, Brandon.”

“Going already?” He stepped back to make space for her. “And here I thought we were just getting started.”

“Maybe in another lifetime,” she called over her shoulder, feeling his eyes burning into her ass with each step.

“One of these days,” he called after her, “you’re going to stop lying to yourself about how much you enjoy our little encounters!”

—

A few hours later, Jess reclined on one of the loungers arranged around their rectangular pool, letting the sun paint her skin as post-workout endorphins flowed through her tired muscles.

She toyed with the straps of her navy one-piece swimsuit, yet another calculated choice. It hugged her in a way that was modest enough for their new tenant’s potential appearance while still highlighting every feminine asset. The high-cut legs elongated her toned thighs and the scooped neckline offered just enough cleavage to be enticing without crossing into overtly tempting territory.

The sound of the sliding glass door drew her attention upward as Tom appeared on their balcony. His bare chest still gleamed with droplets from their earlier swim. He descended the wooden stairs with a refilled pitcher of margaritas in hand.

“Still thirsty?” he asked, pouring into waiting glasses.

“Always,” she replied, letting the word drip with innuendo as she accepted her glass and took a long sip, maintaining eye contact over the glass.

“You look incredible in that suit,” Tom murmured. “But I kind of miss that white bikini from last summer.”

The white bikini in question had been little more than thin strings, designed to draw every masculine eye in the vicinity. Jess remembered how it would be practically transparent when wet, how it would reveal her nipples, how the bottoms would ride up between her ass cheeks with every movement.

“That wouldn’t be very appropriate now that we have a tenant,” she replied, though the thought of wearing it, of being seen in it, would undoubtedly be thrilling.

“No, I guess not,” Tom agreed. “But the thought of you in it…” He trailed off.

“Behave yourself,” she warned, finishing her drink. “Bob might come out any time.”

Jess then rose from the lounger in one fluid motion, giving him a view of her ass. At the pool’s edge, she glanced back over her shoulder. “Coming in? Or just going to stare?”

“Give me a minute,” Tom replied. “I can’t get enough of this view.”

Jess smiled and slipped into the water, sighing as the coolness enveloped her heated skin. “God, this feels amazing.” She pushed off from the wall, executing a graceful stroke that carried her to the opposite end.

Tom rose and launched himself into the pool, joining her with a splash. He immediately moved toward her. “Come here often?” he teased, stalking her through the water.

“Oh, is this your pool?” Jess played along. “I must have gotten lost.”

“Lost, huh?” Tom stalked closer. “Maybe I should help you find your way.”

“If you can catch me,” she taunted, slipping away just as his fingers brushed her waist. She dove beneath the surface and her legs propelled her to the opposite end.

The chase ended inevitably with capture, her body sliding sensually against his as his arms locked around her waist. The margaritas had loosened their inhibitions, making every touch feel electric, every laugh more intimate.

“Got you,” he growled against her ear.

“Mmm, so you have,” she purred, pretending to struggle while grinding back against his erection. “Now what are you going to do with me?”

“Keep moving like that,” he warned, “and you’re going to start something we can’t finish out here.”

Jess bit her lip. Their private oasis felt simultaneously exposed and intimate. The high fence ensured privacy from their neighbors but the knowledge that Bob could appear at any moment diminished her arousal. “Maybe later,” she promised.

They glided to the pool’s edge where Jess rested her arms on the concrete, enjoying Tom’s body pressed against her from behind. His erect cock nestled between her ass cheeks through their swimwear.

“So,” she said, “what do you think about Bob?”

Tom’s thumbs traced lazy circles on her hips, considering the question. “He seems solid. Competent. Professional. Why? Second thoughts?”

“No, just…” Jess thought about it for a moment, searching for the right words. “Different having someone else around. Going to take some getting used to.”

“We’ll manage,” Tom murmured against her neck. “Besides, the extra income means we’re one step closer to starting our family.”

Jess leaned back into him, enjoying the solid warmth of his body despite the cool water.

“How was your workout?” Tom asked.

“Good,” Jess replied. “Did my usual weights and cardio. Ran into Brandon there actually.”

“Oh yeah? How’s our resident Casanova?”

“Same old Brandon,” Jess replied. “Showing off in the weight section, flirting with anything that moves.”

“Including you?” Tom asked as his fingers skimmed the underside of her breasts.

Jess laughed lightly, though her nipples hardened at his touch. “You know how he is, being ridiculous as always, making inappropriate comments, trying to get a reaction.”

“What kind of comments?” Tom’s hands slid higher, gently cupping her breasts through the suit.

“Oh, just Brandon being Brandon. Said my leggings we’re gonna give someone a heart attack. Called me a smokeshow. Real subtle, your friend.”

“He’s not wrong,” Tom murmured, his fingers growing bolder in their exploration. “About the heart attack part. I’ve seen how men look at you.”

Jess turned in Tom’s arms and her eyes locked with his. “Thomas Marshall,” she started, her voice carrying a tone of playful accusation. “Are you getting turned on thinking about Brandon flirting with me?”

The sound of the sliding glass door shattered their moment, making them spring apart guiltily like teenagers caught making out. They shared a look, both fighting smiles as they moved to a more respectable distance.

“This conversation isn’t over,” Jess whispered.

When Bob came out to the patio, his presence immediately altered the atmosphere between Tom and Jess.

Bob wore khaki cargo shorts and a white polo that stretched across his broad chest and protruding belly. In one hand, he carried a six-pack of beer.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” he stated. Bob’s eyes swept over the scene before settling briefly on Jess. His gaze stayed on her for just a moment before shifting to Tom. “Thought I’d come say hello properly, maybe share a cold one with my new landlords.”

Jess felt suddenly exposed under his appraisal. She shifted closer to Tom and he draped his arm across her shoulders.

“Not interrupting at all,” Tom replied. “We’re just enjoying the afternoon. Care to join us?”

As Bob sat on a lounger, the sturdy frame creaked under his weight. He twisted the cap off a beer and drained nearly half the bottle in one long pull.

He then concentrated on the simple plantings along the fence line before moving to study the aging deck furniture and concrete surrounding the pool. The space was functional and well-kept, but to someone with his experience, the potential for enhancement was obvious.

“So,” he said after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What’s the dinner situation? You two look too comfortable to be bothering with cooking.”

“We hadn’t really thought about it,” Jess admitted. “Probably order something in.”

“Nonsense. Let me cook for you both. A thank you for taking me on.” Another long drink emptied the bottle. “Got some prime ribeyes in my fridge.”

“Oh, you don’t have to-” Jess started, but Bob waved off her protest.

“I insist. Been grilling steaks longer than you’ve been alive, darlin’. Trust me, you haven’t had a proper steak until you’ve had one of mine.”

“Well, if you’re sure, we’d love to try your cooking.” Said Tom.

“Excellent,” Bob replied. “I’ll get everything ready.” He left his beers by the lounger and headed toward the house, pausing at the sliding glass door. “Hope you both brought your appetite. I don’t cook for just anyone, you know.”

“Well,” Tom said, breaking the silence that followed Bob’s exit. “That was…”

“Unexpected?” said Jess, finishing his sentence. She laughed lightly. “He definitely knows how to take control of a situation,” she observed, then quickly added, “I mean, he just showed up and suddenly he’s cooking us dinner.”

“True,” Tom agreed. “But I’m curious about these supposedly proper steaks of his.”

They climbed out of the pool together, water dripping down their bodies. Tom grabbed their towels from the nearby chair and handed one to Jess.

Tom couldn’t help but stare as Jess dabbed at her face and ran the towel down her arms. The swimsuit, chosen for its modesty, betrayed her in the most enticing ways as water droplets traced paths down her body. The conservative cut that had seemed so appropriate in dry conditions now served only to emphasize what it tried to conceal.

Finally, they settled onto the lounger together, Tom’s arm finding its way around Jess’s shoulders as she curled into his side.

—

The sliding door opened again moments later. Bob wheeled out his Weber grill and positioned it beside the outdoor dining table. He disappeared inside again, returning with a large cooler that he set down with a solid thunk. The deliberate way he arranged his grilling tools mirrored how he’d organized his work equipment earlier, with everything in its proper place. “Everything’s marinating,” Bob announced. “Needs an hour to really get good.”

With everything arranged to his satisfaction, Bob settled back on the lounger. He picked up another beer and twisted the cap off. “So,” he began, taking a long pull from his bottle. “Tell me about this neighborhood. Been here long?”

“Yeah about… three years or so,” Tom replied, shifting to face Bob while keeping his arm draped around Jess. There was pride in his voice that made Jess smile. This house represented everything they’d built together, every dream they’d shared. “Found it just before the market went crazy. Good timing, really.”

“Smart move,” Bob nodded approvingly. “Values nearly doubled.” His eyes scanned the backyard thoughtfully. “Good bones on this place too. Just needs some updating to hit its potential.”

Tom nodded. “So, what got you started in the trades, Bob? Seems like you’ve got a real passion for it.”

Bob’s face softened with nostalgia. “My old man’s plumbing business. Started helping when I was fourteen, learning the basics. By eighteen, I could handle most repairs solo.”

“Your father taught you everything?” Jess asked.

“Everything worth knowing,” Bob confirmed. “Dad believed in learning everything properly. No shortcuts. Said a man’s reputation is built on the quality of his work.”

“Must have been quite the education,” Tom commented.

“Best education a man could ask for,” Bob agreed. “Started my own business at twenty-three, right after marrying Sarah.” A shadow crossed his face at the name. “She was something else. Eighteen when we met, fresh out of high school. Cheerleader type.”

“Sounds romantic,” Jess ventured, curiosity piqued by the emotion in Bob’s voice.

“Was for ten years.” Bob’s tone hardened. “Till the divorce.” He drained his beer, reaching for another. “Second marriage wasn’t much better. Karen, bank manager, seemed more grounded. But divorced her too.”

“I’m sorry…” Jess said softly.

Bob waved off her sympathy. “Ancient history now. Business kept me going. Built it up from just me and a truck to twenty solid employees. Every job done right, no exceptions.”

Tom leaned forward, chin resting on his hand, interest sparked. “That’s impressive. How’d you manage the growth?”

Bob leaned back on the lounger as his eyes took on a distant look recalling his glory days. “You learn to focus on what matters. First big break came when I fixed a pipe at this fancy restaurant downtown. Owner was so impressed, he recommended me to all his rich friends. Soon I was renovating million-dollar homes, installing custom everything.”

Jess found herself studying him as he spoke, noting how his hands punctuated each point, how his deep voice resonated with authority. The conversation flowed easily as Bob shared more stories from his years in the trades. He had a gift for storytelling, painting vivid pictures of challenging jobs and clever solutions. His tales were peppered with technical details that impressed Tom and human moments that interested Jess.

“There was one job,” Bob chuckled, “renovating an old Victorian mansion. Owner was this art collector, had millions in paintings hanging everywhere. We’re redoing the master bathroom, and my tile guy discovers this hidden area behind the wall. Inside? Letters from the 20s. Seems the original lady of the house was getting real friendly with the gardener.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Houses keep secrets, you know?”

As Bob rose to check on the steaks, Jess squeezed Tom’s hand and he squeezed back.

“You know,” Bob said, returning, “I appreciate you two listening to an old man ramble.”

“We’re enjoying it, Bob,” Jess said warmly, surprising herself with how much she meant it. “Really.”

“What about your line of work, Tom?” Bob asked, steering the conversation. “It’s interesting, though… your consulting work. Different problems and all. Still about fixing things, right?”

Tom nodded eagerly, the margaritas making him more expansive than usual. “Exactly! Right now, I’m working with this healthcare company, completely rebuilding their systems. Lots of moving parts, everything has to keep running while we make changes.”

“The human element’s always the trickiest part,” Bob observed. “Whether it’s getting an electrician to redo his work or convincing some suit their way isn’t working, it’s all about managing expectations.”

Jess watched the interplay between the two men with growing interest. Tom was clearly impressed by Bob’s practical knowledge and business acumen, while Bob seemed genuinely interested in Tom’s more theoretical approach to problem-solving.

“Speaking of managing expectations,” Bob turned to Jess, “must be a big part of your work too. Bet you get a lot of ‘I saw it on HGTV types’, huh?”

Jess laughed, surprised by his insight. “Oh god, yes. Everyone’s an expert these days. I had this client last month who insisted on putting a massive crystal chandelier in their farmhouse kitchen because they saw it on Instagram.”

“What did you do?” Bob’s attention was fully on her now.

“Convinced them to do a custom piece instead,” Jess explained as her obvious passion for design made her eyes almost sparkle. “Worked with this amazing local craftsman who made this beautiful fixture that actually fit the space. Clients need guidance to see what really works.”

“That’s the mark of a professional,” Bob nodded approvingly. “Not just giving them what they think they want but helping them discover what really works without making them feel stupid.”

The conversation continued to flow easily, touching on different aspects of their jobs. Tom shared stories about difficult clients and impossible deadlines while Jess described the challenges of managing client expectations. Bob listened attentively, occasionally offering insights from his years of experience that shed new light on their situations.

“We had this CEO once,” Tom laughed, “He insisted we could rebuild their entire system in two months and wouldn’t listen to reason. Finally, we had to walk him through every single step to show him why it would take at least six.”

“Sounds familiar,” Bob chuckled. “Rich folks always think throwing money at something makes it happen faster. Physics doesn’t work that way. Neither does proper craftsmanship.”

As the conversation pulled Tom in, his posture became more relaxed. Jess found herself laughing more freely, the initial awkwardness of having their new tenant join them dissolving. Even Bob seemed to have let down some of his guards as his stories became more personal and his laughter more frequent.

After just about an hour, Bob checked his watch. “Those steaks should be ready for the grill. Mind if I get started?”

“Please,” Tom replied. “Show us your expertise.”

Bob retrieved three ribeyes from the cooler, each thick enough to make Tom’s eyes widen. “Secret’s in the prep,” he explained, laying them on the grill. “Dry-aged and marinated in my special stuff.”

The sizzle of meat hitting hot metal filled the air as Bob worked his magic.

“Sarah had an eye for design,” Bob mused as he monitored the steaks. “She had that creative spark. Could have modeled too, had the looks for it. Agencies interested and everything.”

“Oh yeah?” Tom perked up. “Jess did some modeling back in the day. Didn’t you, babe? Those campaigns were something else.”

Bob’s eyes returned to Jess. “That so? Professional work?”

“Just local stuff during college,” she deflected. “Nothing serious.”

“Don’t be shy,” Tom insisted. “That shoot with Georgio was incredible. You should see those photos, Bob. My wife’s absolutely stunning.” Tom pulled out his phone, swiping through his gallery with clumsy enthusiasm. “Actually, the light’s perfect right now. We should take some pictures.”

“Tom!” Jess hissed, mortified. “Put the phone away. I haven’t modeled in years!”

“Come on, baby,” Tom persisted. “Just a few shots. You look amazing in that.”

“I’m not exactly camera-ready,” Jess protested, realizing her wet hair and lack of makeup. She shot a nervous glance at Bob, who maintained focus on his grill despite his obvious interest in the conversation.

 “You’re gorgeous,” Tom declared. “Natural beauty, that’s what Georgio always said, right? No makeup needed.”

“That’s not…” Jess felt heat creep up her neck. “This isn’t appropriate, Tom. We barely know Bob.”

“I can make myself scarce,” Bob offered without looking up. “These need my attention anyway.”

“See? Bob doesn’t mind,” Tom stood unsteadily, phone already raised. “Just a few poses. Like the old days.”

“Tom, you’re drunk,” Jess said, but the familiar excitement was already building.

“Please? You used to love being photographed. Remember how alive it made you feel?”

Jess bit her lower lip, considering. The thrill of yesterday’s bathroom photoshoot flashed through her mind. That same electric energy was coursing through her veins now, amplified by the margaritas and Tom’s enthusiasm. She noticed that the afternoon sun was hitting the water at that angle photographers called golden hour.

“Fine,” she finally conceded, standing. “But just a few. And nothing provocative.” Even as she said it, she knew every pose would be inherently sensual. “And Bob, you don’t have to leave. Just… pretend we’re not being ridiculous.”

Bob’s low chuckle carried across the patio. “Trust me, I’ve seen plenty of ridiculous in my time. This ain’t even close.”

Jess took a deep breath, feeling the pre-shoot butterflies she thought she’d left behind years ago. The margaritas helped, but it was the old excitement returning, the thrill of being seen, of being captured.

“Ready when you are,” she said softly.

—

The impromptu photo shoot began innocently enough, with Tom holding up his phone as Jess walked to the edge near the pool steps. The margaritas had loosened her inhibitions enough to make the attention feel thrilling rather than uncomfortable.

“Come on, babe. Show me what you got,” Tom encouraged with an eager grin.

Jess felt a combination of nerves and excitement. The girl who once posed fearlessly, who commanded attention without shame felt like a different person. Now here she was, a respectable married woman, Mrs. Thomas Marshall, about to channel that same energy while her husband and new tenant watched.

“You’re so ridiculous,” she laughed, but found herself naturally falling into poses that felt like second nature. She sat at the pool’s edge, letting her legs dangle in the cool water. Leaning back on her hands, she tilted her head and offered a natural smile. The pose accentuated her long neck and toned arms while keeping everything tasteful.

“That’s it,” Tom encouraged. “God, you’re a natural at this. You just own the camera.”

She rolled to lie on her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows. Her feet crossed at the ankles and lifted playfully behind her, toes pointed like a ballet dancer. The position showed the roundness of her ass and made her legs look endless. Each pose felt like rediscovering a part of herself she’d forgotten existed.

As she moved through familiar poses, memories of her modeling days flooded back. The lights, the energy, the intoxicating feeling of being desired. She’d traded the excitement of being watched for the security of being loved.

By the grill, Bob maintained an air of indifference that fooled exactly no one. His hands moved the steaks with care, but his eyes kept finding their way back to Jess.

Jess shifted to her side and rested her head on her palm. In her mind, she could hear Georgio’s accented voice saying “yes, bella, hold that. Make them want what they cannot have.” She made every attempt to keep things tasteful, but despite it, her natural sensuality made every movement charged with unintended eroticism.

“Fuck, you’re incredible,” Tom breathed, his voice carrying a note of awe. “Still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Need about ten minutes for these to rest properly,” Bob announced, arranging the grilled meat on a wooden cutting board. He covered the steaks loosely with foil and then he then grabbed another beer and settled onto the lounger. “Can’t rush perfection.”

An idea formed in Tom’s head. “Hey Bob,” he called out suddenly. His words carried the loose confidence of someone several drinks in. “You should take some shots too. Bet that phone’s got a better camera than mine.”

Jess’ heart skipped a beat.

Bob’s eyes moved between husband and wife, considering the offer. She could see him weighing the situation. “Wouldn’t want to intrude,” he said carefully.

“No, really,” Tom insisted. His eyes were bright with barely concealed excitement. “Come on, show us what you got.”

 Bob pulled out his phone. His hands, so confident with tools, seemed almost clumsy with the device.

“Well,” Bob started. “Let’s see what we can do.”

Where Tom’s approach had been enthusiastic but amateur, Bob’s was ancient. He didn’t know about fancy angles or composition, but he knew what looked good. Years of commanding job sites had also given him an understanding of how to direct people. His directions were simple and direct.

“Turn around,” he commanded. The same voice that had directed countless construction crews now focused entirely on positioning Jess’ body. “Now look back over your shoulder.”

Jess complied. She could feel both men’s eyes on her, Tom’s eager and excited, Bob’s unreadable but unwavering.

“You know what would look great?” Tom suggested, his voice carrying an edge of excitement. “If you got in the water again. The way that suit looks when it’s wet…”

The suggestion sent heat flooding through Jess’s core. She knew how the swimsuit would reveal more than it concealed. This was their tenant, a virtual stranger, and proper boundaries needed to be maintained, she told herself. But beneath that proper façade, that wild creature inside her had never really gone away. It just lay dormant, waiting for moments like this to resurface.

“Why not?” she heard herself say. Her voice carried a sense of defiance against her better judgment. Without hesitation, she slipped into the pool, gasping as the cool water embraced her. When she surfaced, she pushed her wet hair back, recreating one of her old modeling poses.

“Holy fuck,” Tom breathed, forgetting the phone in his hand as he stared at his wife.

Bob kept shooting, though his hands weren’t quite steady. “Come up the steps,” he ordered. “Slow.”

Jess complied, knowing exactly how the water would cascade down her body. She emerged from the pool like Venus rising from the sea. Each step was deliberate. Her toned legs carried her upward as water streamed down her body. She paused at the top of the steps, letting both men drink in the sight of her.

“Just one more,” Bob’s deep voice commanded. “Hands in your hair, arch your back, look up at the sky.”

The pose was deceptively simple yet devastatingly effective. As Jess raised her arms to run her fingers through her wet hair, her back arched naturally, pushing her chest forward and her ass out behind her. With her face tilted up toward the setting sun, water droplets traced paths down her throat and between her breasts. The wet material might as well have been painted on, hiding nothing of her form.

“Christ almighty,” Tom muttered.

Even Bob seemed to forget about photographing. His phone lowered slightly as he stared. The pose transformed Jess from beautiful woman to living fantasy, a siren emerged from the depths to tempt mortal men to their doom.

“Steaks are ready,” Bob announced suddenly. His deep voice cutting through the charged atmosphere. “Let me get everything,” he said before disappearing into his unit.

The spell broke. Jess felt reality crash back like a cold wave, leaving her breathless. She grabbed her towel, wrapping it around herself like armor. Her mind raced with the knowledge that Bob now possessed dozens of photos of her looking like every man’s fantasy come to life. What kind of respectable wife lets another man photograph her like that?

Tom pulled her close as they walked to their outdoor dining table. He whispered hotly in her ear, “You were so fucking incredible. I can’t believe I’m married to the hottest woman on the planet.”

They settled beside each other on one of the long benches that flanked the rectangular table, choosing spots that gave them a view of the pool. The matching benches could easily seat five people each, though tonight only three total spots would be occupied.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” Jess whispered back. Her cheeks flushed as she adjusted her towel. “Bob probably thinks we’re crazy.”

“Are you kidding?” Tom leaned close. “Did you see how he could barely keep his eyes off you? Even a man his age knows beauty when he sees it.”

The pride in his voice confused her. Shouldn’t he be jealous? Instead, he seemed almost thrilled by Bob’s obvious appreciation.

Bob came back outside carrying a weathered wooden box. From it, he produced sturdy white plates, well-worn but quality silverware that spoke of years of use, and a pack of paper napkins. A bottle of cabernet, not expensive but carefully chosen, completed the meal.

“Let me help with that,” Tom offered, starting to rise, but Bob waved him off.

“Just sit and relax, you two,” Bob insisted. He made quick work of setting the table. There was nothing fancy about his setup but there was an efficiency to his movements.

The steaks arrived on a simple wooden cutting board, seared with textbook grill marks. As Bob served each portion, the aroma made their mouths water.

Bob then twisted the cap off the wine bottle. “Nothing fancy,” he said as he poured the dark liquid generously. “To new beginnings,” he proposed, raising his glass. The toast was simple and direct, much like the man himself.

“To new beginnings,” Tom and Jess echoed, lifting their own glasses.

Tom and Jess fell into comfortable silence as they savored their first bites of steak. The meat was expertly cooked, pink and juicy in the center with a beautifully seasoned crust.

“This is incredible,” Jess murmured after her first bite, the flavors exploding in her mouth.

“Timing’s everything,” Bob explained, carving into his steak, the meat parting effortlessly under his knife to reveal a medium-rare center. “Too many people rush it,” he continued as his eyes moved between husband and wife. “You’ve got to let the meat rest, let the juices redistribute. Patience makes all the difference.”

“What’s in the marinade?” she asked.

“Family secret,” Bob replied with a wink.

“Speaking of incredible,” Tom said as his hand found Jess’s thigh under the table, “You’ve got quite an eye for photography, Bob.”

“Had a good subject,” Bob replied matter-of-factly. “Reminds me of Sarah in her younger days. She had that same natural grace in front of the camera.”

“You mentioned she wanted to model?” Jess asked, partly to deflect attention from herself and partly out of genuine curiosity.

“Yeah, had the looks for it too. But I was old-fashioned back then, didn’t want my wife on display.” Bob took a long drink of wine. “Different times. Looking back, maybe I should’ve let her pursue it. Might’ve kept her happier.”

“It can be quite liberating,” Jess found herself saying. The wine had loosened her tongue. “When I was modeling, it wasn’t just about being looked at. It was about owning your presence.”

“You certainly owned it today,” Bob’s voice carried a note of appreciation. “That last pose especially. Reminded me of those classic pin-up shots.”

“God yes,” Tom agreed enthusiastically as his fingers tightened on her thigh. “It was like something out of a movie.”

“I’m sure photos came out well,” Jess said before she cut into another piece.

Throughout dinner, Tom found himself unable to resist touching Jess at every opportunity. When passing the wine bottle, his fingers brushed against hers. Their legs pressed together beneath the table. His hand kept finding its way to her thigh, fingers tracing patterns on her skin. She kept her face neutral but her breath hitched when his fingers crept higher, brushing dangerous territory while they maintained polite conversation with Bob.

They finished their meals quickly, the conversation staying safely focused on home improvement projects and maintenance tips.

Bob stood up and gathered his things, placing his items back in his box. “Thank you for a lovely evening,” he said. “We should make this a regular thing.”

“The steaks were incredible,” Tom replied. “We’ll definitely have to do this again soon.”

“Thank you for dinner,” Jess agreed. “Best I’ve had in years.”

When Bob disappeared into his unit, Tom’s control finally snapped. The tension from watching his wife pose had wound him tight as a spring. He pulled Jess against him. “Upstairs,” he growled in her ear with a needy voice. “Right now.”

They barely made it to their bedroom before Tom had her pinned against the wall. His mouth found her neck as his hands yanked at the towel wrapped around her. The terrycloth fell away to reveal her still-damp swimsuit underneath.

“Do you have any idea what you did to me out there?” Tom’s voice was hoarse as his hands explored her body. “Watching you pose like that… you looked like a fucking goddess…”

Jess melted into Tom’s touch but responsibility nagged at her. “Wait,” she managed, pushing against his chest. “We should clean up first. Can you grab the margarita pitcher and glasses from outside? And maybe check if we left anything else out there?”

“Fuck it,” said Tom, trying to pull her back. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“I don’t want Bob to think we’re careless slobs who can’t even clean up after ourselves,” Jess insisted. “We’re his landlords. We need to set a good example.”

Tom groaned in frustration but nodded. “You’re right.” He pressed his forehead against hers and chuckled softly. “Always the practical one, aren’t you? Even when you’re driving me absolutely fucking crazy.”

“You handle the backyard while I clean up in here?” she suggested.

“Such a responsible landlady,” Tom teased, stealing another kiss. His eyes swept over her body one more time, remembering how she’d posed under Bob’s direction. His obvious arousal tented his swim trunks as he turned toward the balcony door.

“Don’t take too long,” she called after Tom, her voice carrying a promise. “I’m not done with you yet.”

—

Tom descended the wooden stairs into the warm evening air, as his mind raced with images of Jess waiting. Their renewed intimacy felt precious, fragile somehow. What should have been a quick chore felt like torture, keeping him from her warmth.

Approaching the patio table to gather their abandoned drinks, a sliver of light caught his attention. Through a gap in Bob’s blinds, the glow of a laptop screen illuminated the interior.

Through the narrow opening, Tom could see Bob seated at his desk. The older man had stripped off his polo shirt, revealing a broad chest covered in hair that trailed down his solid belly. Bob had his cargo shorts open and shoved down his thick thighs. His meaty hand moved up and down, up and down. Tom froze in place when he realized what he was witnessing.

“Jesus Christ,” Tom mouthed. His stomach churned with a nauseating mix of disgust and fascination.

In his hand, Bob gripped what had to be the most impressive cock Tom had ever seen. The thing had to be at least eight or nine inches, and Bob’s hand just barely encircled its impressive girth. It looked heavy, with a pronounced upward curve designed to hit spots most men could only dream of. The huge mushroom head glistened with precum and his heavy, low-hanging balls completed the package, swaying with each stroke, promising copious loads.

Tom had seen his share of porn, but this was different. This was real, happening mere feet away. Tom knew he should look away, to preserve some semblance of normalcy in their landlord-tenant relationship, yet his feet remained glued to the spot, eyes fixed on the display in front of him.

The laptop screen reflected clearly in the window glass. Tom’s pulse thundered in his ears as he recognized their poolside photos displayed on the screen. His wife, his beautiful Jessica Marshall, was captured in moments of unconscious sensuality. Bob scrolled the images slowly, zooming in on certain shots like her hardened nipples beneath the suit and the curve of her ass as she emerged from the water. Each image seemed to fuel Bob’s arousal.

Tom thought of all the times he’d caught other men staring at Jess but this was different. This wasn’t just a glance of appreciation from afar, this was carnal, animal lust. Bob was actively fantasizing about her, stroking himself to thoughts of her.

Bob’s breathing grew heavier as his strokes became more purposeful. The mushroom head had grown even darker, veins pulsing along the shaft as he worked himself closer to release. Tom could see Bob’s mouth moving, muttering to himself as he stared at photos of Jess’s body on display.

Tom’s mind screamed that he should feel outraged, violated even. He should storm in there, demand Bob delete the photos and evict him immediately. That’s what any self-respecting husband would do.

Instead, his imagination betrayed him with vivid scenarios. He saw Jess on her knees, her delicate hands wrapped around its girth, her wedding ring glinting as she stretched her mouth obscenely wide to attempt taking that cock down her throat, so different from how easily she could swallow his average length.

“That’s right,” Bob growled. “Show me that perfect body, princess…”

The word ‘princess’ hit Tom like a slap to the face. Bob was already casually claiming ownership of Jess, even in fantasy.

Bob’s broad chest started rising and falling as he worked himself towards the edge. Tom watched in stunned fascination as Bob shuddered and his cock began to pulse. The first rope of cum shot straight up before landing on his hairy chest. The second and third spurts painted his belly.

His loads decreased in intensity but remained impressive, a fourth load added to the mess on his torso. Bob’s face was contorted in pleasure. “Fuck yeah, princess,” he growled between harsh pants, his voice deep with satisfaction.

The fifth and final load oozed from his mushroom tip, dripping down his shaft as Bob slowly came down from his intense climax. His eyes were half-lidded now.

Tom had never seen anything like it. The sheer volume was staggering and made his own orgasms seem pitiful in comparison. This was something primal and animalistic, the kind of virile display that spoke to something deep in human nature that polite society pretended didn’t exist.

There was also something intensely intimate about witnessing another man’s moment of release, especially someone like Bob. The older man’s usual gruff demeanor had dissolved into pure animal pleasure, leaving him exposed in a way that crossed boundaries that should never be breached. Yet Tom couldn’t tear his eyes away from Bob’s massive cock or the impressive evidence of his potency coating his torso.

The wrongness of it all twisted in Tom’s gut. This was their tenant, a man who would live beneath them and share their pool. How could he ever look Bob in the eye again, knowing he’d watched him in such an intimate moment, knowing Bob had been fantasizing about his wife while bringing himself to such an intense climax?

Tom forced himself to move, disgusted with his voyeurism yet undeniably aroused. He grabbed the pitcher and glasses from the table with trembling hands, nearly dropping them. The ice clinked loudly, making him freeze in panic, but Bob seemed too engrossed in his activities to notice. Tom fled back upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.

Tom burst through their bedroom door while his heart hammered so hard he could almost feel it in his throat. The sight that greeted him nearly brought him to his knees.

Jess lay sprawled on their king-sized bed with her back arched to thrust her breasts upward. Her hands squeezed them through the delicate black lace. The babydoll barely contained her, riding up to expose the tiny matching thong beneath, while her golden hair fanned out across the white pillows. Her legs were slightly spread, one bent at the knee in an invitation that made her intentions crystal clear.

“Took you long enough,” she purred, her voice carrying that teasing tone he loved. Her expression changed as she studied his face, catching something in his eyes that made her own narrow with curiosity. “Babe… is everything okay?”

“Everything’s great,” he managed, practically tearing off his shirt and swim trunks in his haste to get to her.

He descended on her with passionate kisses that held no restraint, devouring her mouth like a man starved. His hands roamed her body, roughly pushing the flimsy fabric up to expose more of her skin, not caring if the delicate material tore. Bob’s words from moments ago echoed in his mind, fueling his desperate need. “Show me that perfect body, princess,” he growled, using Bob’s words.

The words felt foreign on his tongue, dirty somehow, knowing where he’d heard it. But the way Jess shivered beneath him told him she liked it, even if she didn’t know its true source.

“Someone’s eager,” Jess gasped between kisses, responding to his intensity with matching passion. “What’s gotten into you?”

Her question only seemed to drive him to greater intensity. “Just can’t get enough of you,” Tom replied, breathing heavy. “You have no idea what you do to men… to me…” The knowledge of Bob stroking himself to her photos made his words carry a deeper meaning that Jess couldn’t possibly understand.

Her hands found his shoulders, manicured nails dragging lightly across his skin as she felt the tension radiating through his muscles. She could sense something different in his touch, something almost feral in his need to possess her.

Tom latched onto her exposed nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive peak before sucking hard enough to make her cry out. He alternated between gentle nibbles and rough suction, drawing whimpers from her throat. The slight pain sent lightning bolts of pleasure straight to her core.

“Someone’s feeling wild tonight,” she managed between moans. “Not that I’m complaining…” Her voice broke on a particularly sharp bite that made her whole body jerk.

All he could think about was what he saw downstairs. He opened his mouth but the confession stuck in his throat, heavy with implications. How could he admit that directly beneath them, their older tenant had stroked himself to orgasm staring at photos of Jess’s wet body? And worse yet, he was as turned on as he’d ever been. The words died on his lips. Instead, his tongue invaded her mouth and his fingers traveled between her legs.

Through her panties, he felt arousal coating his fingers. “Fuck, you’re soaked,” he said, his voice desperate. His fingers traced her slit through the wet fabric, feeling her parted pussy lips.

Jess squirmed under him and her hands clawed at his back. Her hips rolled against his hand, trying to increase the sensation where she needed it most. “Please,” she begged. “Fuck me, baby.”

Tom’s fingers hooked into her panties and practically tore them off her body. His fingers found her wet entrance, two digits plunging inside her roughly as his thumb circled her clit.

“So fucking wet… tell me how bad you want it,” he demanded, curling his fingers to find that sensitive spot inside her that made her see stars.

“So bad,” Jess moaned as her hips bucked against his hand. “Please, baby… I need you… need your cock…”

In one fluid motion, Tom flipped her onto her hands and knees. Jess immediately arched her back and pushed her magnificent ass up invitingly, already knowing the perfect angle.

From her very first fumbling sexual encounters, she’d loved being taken from behind in doggy. She loved the deep penetration and especially how submissive and vulnerable it made her feel. There was something intoxicating about presenting herself like an offering, surrendering completely to a man’s desires.

“Please,” she whimpered, wiggling her hips in a way that made her ass jiggle. Her movements were calculated yet natural, drawing on years of experience in teasing and tempting. “Fuck me… want to feel every inch of you…”

Tom gripped his shaft, rubbing the swollen head through her slick folds to coat himself in her arousal. When he finally pushed inside, her pussy parted easily. They both groaned at the exquisite feeling of him filling her.

Tom quickly established a punishing pace, each powerful thrust making her ass ripple from the impact. Jess pushed back to meet every stroke, taking him as deep as possible while her fingers clawed at the sheets beneath them.

“Harder!” Jess cried out, her voice breaking with need. “Oh god, fuck me harder!”

“Such a good girl, such a perfect princess” he panted, driving into her with intensity.

Jess’s arms soon gave out under his assault and her face pressed into the mattress, ass still raised high as Tom continued to ruthlessly pound her.

The bed frame started to protest loudly beneath them, its rhythmic creaking accompanied by the headboard thumping against the wall. Sweat dripped down Tom’s back as he maintained his pace. His thighs started burning from exertion.

“Tom, wait,” Jess gasped, twisting to look back at him with concern in her eyes. “We need to slow down… Bob’s right below us, he’ll hear everythi-”

“Let him hear,” Tom growled, gripping her hips tighter. “I want him to hear what I do to you.”

“No, seriously,” Jess insisted. Her voice was firmer now as she pulled away. “He’s right below us.” Her cheeks flushed with genuine mortification at the thought of their tenant listening to their passionate coupling.

The momentary pause gave Tom a chance to catch his breath.

Jess turned around to face him, pushing him onto his back. “Here,” she whispered, “let me take care of you another way.” Her hand wrapped around his shaft, still slick with her juices. “This will be quieter.”

Jess’s mouth enveloped him and her tongue swirled around the head of his cock. She knew exactly how to use her tongue, how to vary pressure, when to focus on his sensitive head and when to take him deep.

As Jess bobbed her head, taking him deeper, Tom’s imagination betrayed him. He pictured Bob’s massive meat stretching Jess’s lips wide as he received the same treatment. Would she even be able to handle something that thick? The mental image sent electricity through his body. He imagined Bob’s gruff voice praising her efforts, calling her his ‘princess’.

Jess swirled her tongue around his sensitive head once again before swallowing him whole. One hand massaged his balls while the other stroked his shaft in time with her mouth’s movements. After a few minutes of her expert oral attention, Tom couldn’t take anymore. He needed to be inside her again. “Turn around,” he commanded hoarsely. “Wanna fuck you.”

Jess gave his cock one final lick from base to tip before turning and presenting her ass, ready to continue where they’d left off.

This time Tom tried to find a gentler rhythm that wouldn’t broadcast their activities so blatantly. “How’s this?” he asked through gritted teeth. Each careful thrust still made her moan softly, but at lease the bed had stopped its creaking.

“Better,” Jess sighed, pushing back to meet his controlled strokes. She reached down to circle her clit, chasing her own pleasure now that the fear of being overheard had diminished. “Just like that, baby… god, you feel so good inside me.”

Tom’s pace became its own exquisite torture. Each thrust allowed him to feel her around him. The bed remained quiet, but Jess’s soft moans grew more frequent as her fingers worked her clit with increasing urgency.

“So good,” he grunted, watching his cock drive in and out of her. He could sense she was getting closer, and she confirmed it just seconds later.

“I’m so close,” she moaned. Her movements became more desperate as she chased her release. “Don’t stop… right there… just like that… fuck, I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna cum on your cock!”

Her words pushed Tom dangerously close to the point of no return. The sight of his gorgeous wife working herself closer to orgasm while he maintained that torturously controlled pace was almost more than he could bear.

“Gonna cum,” Jess moaned as her fingers moved frantically against her clit. “Oh god, Tom… I’m gonna cum so hard!”

The flutter of her inner walls around his cock destroyed the last of his control. Tom’s hips snapped forward harder and harder, making Jess bite down on the pillow to muffle her cries.

The memory of Bob’s massive cock spurting those impressive loads fueled his frenzy, making him want to mark his territory, to prove his own virility even if his output would pale in comparison. Her pussy felt like heaven, gripping him perfectly, and the combination of physical pleasure with the forbidden images in his mind pushed him past the point of reason.

“Inside,” he demanded through gritted teeth as his own orgasm approached. “Want to fill this pussy up…”

“We shouldn’t,” Jess protested weakly, even as her body clenched around him. “Not safe…” But her actions contradicted her concerns as she pushed her ass back harder against him, taking him deeper.

The risk only heightened their shared pleasure as they orgasmed together. Jess’s pussy clamped down hard as she came, milking his cock as Tom exploded and pumped hot cum into his wife’s spasming pussy.

Tom’s hips continued to move with shallow, restrained thrusts savoring the aftershocks of their shared orgasm. His teeth clenched with the effort of maintaining control as pleasure rippled through him. He fought to prolong the final precious moments joined together, each gentle thrust sending shivers down his spine as her pussy continued to milk his sensitive cock.

They finally collapsed together onto the mattress, Tom’s weight pressing Jess into the sheets as they both struggled to catch their breath, sweaty and spent. His softening cock slipped from her well-fucked pussy, followed immediately by a thick glob of cum that leaked onto their sheets.

Their breathing gradually returned to normal as Tom rolled to his side, pulling Jess against his chest. He’d cum harder than he could ever remember, his whole body still tingling from the intensity of his release.

Yet even as satisfaction washed over him, an unwanted image flashed through his mind: Bob’s massive cock erupting, painting his chest and belly in volume that made Tom’s output seem pathetic in comparison. Where Tom had managed to leak a small puddle onto their sheets, Bob had covered himself like icing on a cake.

His eyes traced the cum running down Jess’s inner thigh. What would it look like if it was Bob’s load leaking from her instead? Would it flow like a river rather than this trickle? The thought filled him with a confusing mix of inadequacy and arousal.

“You really filled me up,” Jess said, her tone playful but eyes wide. “Like, seriously filled me up. I can literally feel it swimming around in there.” She moved her hand to her flat stomach, perhaps already imagining it swelling with their child.

Her words sent a wave of panic through Tom. “Shit, you’re right,” he replied, reality crashing back. “I’m sorry, I got carried away. I wasn’t thinking straight.” He wasn’t just apologizing for the creampie anymore, he was apologizing for the forbidden thoughts that had driven him to such reckless abandon.

“We both did.” She sat up carefully, causing more of his cum to drip down her thigh. The sight was both erotic and slightly alarming. “I should probably clean up. Maybe get Plan B tomorrow? Unless…” She bit her lip and contemplated their situation, their dreams, their future together. “Unless we want to risk it? I mean, we do want kids eventually…”

Tom stared at the wet spot darkening their sheets, evidence of his loss of control. He thought of the implications, considered their financial situation, their careers, the timing. “It’s your choice,” he said finally, reaching out to trace his fingers along her spine. “But maybe… maybe we let fate decide this one?”

She smiled, leaning to kiss him tenderly before carefully standing. “I’m going to clean up now.” She gestured at the trails of cum marking her thighs. “But… maybe we skip the Plan B. What happens, happens?” Her words carried both excitement and nervous energy.

She made her way to their bathroom with care while his cum continued to leak from her pussy.

In the bedroom, Tom lay back against their pillows, processing everything that had happened. As his post-orgasmic haze began to fade, post-nut clarity came crashing as his rational mind reasserted control. What the fuck had he just done? He’d gotten so worked up watching their tenant cum to photos of his wife that he’d filled her unprotected pussy with cum. He’d practically put on a show for Bob, letting their bed frame broadcast their activities while entertaining fantasies about his wife struggling to accommodate their tenant’s impressive equipment.

The worst part? It felt so good. He felt simultaneously guilty and aroused, ashamed and satisfied. His body felt relaxed after of one of the most intense orgasms he’d ever experienced, yet his mind tortured him with questions about what kind of husband gets off on another man lusting after his wife.

But most of all, he felt closer to her than ever before. Their intimacy had reached new heights, driven by forces he was only beginning to understand. Laying there in the aftermath, listening to the soft sounds of her cleaning herself in the bathroom, Tom realized their relationship had shifted into uncharted territory. There would be no going back.