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I drop the groceries on the mud-room floor, take off my mask, and wash my hands in the laundry basin. I feel gross. I’m leaning over the sink lost in silent reverie when Maia says hi the first time.*Cough* “HI.”I jump, startled, and turn around to greet my wife of six months. As soon as I see her, all the angst fades and I smile. She’s wearing a short, bright yellow T-shirt dress that complements her smooth caramel skin and contrasts her short black hair. She’s barefoot, and I notice her freshly polished, short fingernails match her glossy toenails. I want to know whether she’s wearing anything under that dress. I’m just starting to imagine her lifting up the bottom to show me when she says, “I have a surprise for you. Come say hi in the living room when you’re done here.” Then she turns and tiptoes down the hall as I ogle her sweet, round butt.I hurry to grab some fresh shorts and a T-shirt from the basket on top of the dryer and change my outfit before taking the groceries into the kitchen and putting them away. I wash my hands again, and as I turn off the tap I hear Maia talking to someone. Must be a Zoom call, I think.As I round the corner into the living room, I’m startled again almanbahis şikayet — Maia’s not on the laptop, she’s actually got a real live person in the living room. Nobody else has been in our house for months. My first instinct is to grab the disinfectant spray and put my mask back on. But politeness wins out.”Wow, hey Janette!” I think that may have even sounded natural. Not at all freaked out. Janette says hi and gives me a friendly little wave.”Honey,” Maia says, “I’ve invited Janette into our little bubble.” I’m sure there’s a story there, but I don’t care that much. All I want to know right now is — “Don’t worry, she’s been isolating too and just got her test results back. All three of us are safe, and none of us will mess this up.”Okay. I’m cool with that. Now I can relax. “Cool!” I say, politely enthusiastic.Maia pats the narrow space between them on the sofa. I walk over and squeeze in. “Janette?” Maia says, obviously teeing up a pre-planned conversation. I look from my wife to her friend.”Guess why Maia invited me to move in, Hill?” Janette is giving me kind of a flirty look, if I’m not mistaken. I look back to Maia, who’s all of a sudden looking timid. I think almanbahis canlı casino she’s blushing a little. Back to Janette, who I notice for the first time has really nice-looking lips. I shrug.”We’ve been talking a lot lately about your sex life.” … You said what now? “And here’s the thing: Maia feels secure now that you guys are married and you’ve treated her so respectfully. Which gives her space to explore her fantasies. And that’s why I’m here.”My mind races. Janette’s wearing a simple black tank top and loose cut-off jean shorts. Frankly I never noticed before (newly wed and true love and all that jazz), but she’s kind of hot. Her skin is light but sunkissed, and she has delightful freckles across her cheeks and shoulders. Her hair is curly and wild and brown, which I take note of right before getting caught in her bright hazel eyes.”I’m here to seduce you.” I start to laugh, but Janette appears to be serious, even with the broad smile on her face. Maia nods sheepishly with a cheeky grin of her own when I look to her again. “I’m going to make you my boyfriend, and I’m going to do it right in front of Maia, and that’s gonna turn her. The fuck. ON.”I must look almanbahis casino a fool, slack-jawed and crinkled brow. I should be indignant. I should point out that I have yet to consent to this situation. I should protest that I would never do something that could potentially hurt my wife’s feelings.I don’t.”Maia?””Yes, Janette?””Go get your husband and me some wine.””Yes, Janette.”Welp, that does it. I’m all in. I watch Maia quickly but calmly get up and pad around the corner into the kitchen.”Hill?””Yes, Janette?””Want me to take off my clothes for you?””Yes, Janette.”It’s not fast, it’s not slow, it’s just right. She pulls off her tank top and I see fine breasts, smaller than Maia’s and delectable. No bra. Bikini-top tan lines. Cute, little suckable nipples. Janette straightens for a moment to rub her hands over them and let me admire her subtly athletic torso, before unsnapping her shorts. Just a little wiggle of her hips, and they drop to the floor around her ankles. She’s not wearing panties. Her dark brown pubic hair’s trimmed very close, and shaved around the sides so she could wear an immodest bikini, which looks to be exactly how she got those tan lines. But the pièce de résistance is what I notice next. As Janette stands perfectly still in front of me, her hands at her sides and her knees touching mine, I lean toward her hips and squint: just above her pubic hairline, written neatly in red marker, are the words.
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