TonyDeeDee
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Nov 28, 2013
- Posts
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Mark Chapman pulled the car up to the curb before his house, asking his wife Cherie again, "Do you have to go get it now?"
She bailed out without answering, curling around to meet him at the drivers side. The door was locked when she tried to open it. Mark sat there for a moment simply staring at her staring at him. Then he shook his head in disbelief, got out, and gestured her to the still running car's driver seat.
"I didn't forget it on purpose," he tried to explain. She ignored him. She got this way -- silently pissed -- when he disappointed her. She closed the door and headed away toward the store as he was repeating, "I didn't forget it on purpose!"
He stood there in the street for a long moment, just staring after her, shaking his head in dismay. He'd gone to the grocery for her that Saturday morning so that she could stay home with their three year old, Samuel, and he'd forgotten just one of the fifty or so items on the list. And for the past twelve hours, even during the dinner party, she hadn't been able to let it go!
Mark loved Cherie, he really did. But sometimes, he really despised her, too. She had lost her fun and playful side two years into the marriage, concentrating all of her attention on the start up company she and a college friend had established. It hit big, and they sold it for millions, after which the less than happy couple decided a child would fix their woes.
He hadn't. Oh, Mark and Cherie loved Sammy, and having an infant in the home brought them together as a family. But their relationship was still, and remained today, one of two individuals living under the same roof for the benefit of a child. They were no longer in love, even if they continued to love one another.
As Mark abandoned the street and headed for the house, he tried to remember the last time they'd had sex and couldn't. It had probably been before Sammy's birth.
He was so deep in thought that when he got to the locked front door and had no keys to open it, he couldn't figure out what was wrong with the current situation.
Then it came to him: normally when he and his wife went out, leaving Sammy with the babysitter, they returned to park inside the garage. They opened it with a garage door opener, then entered the house via the unlocked back hall door. No keys needed.
He stood there, just staring at the door for a long moment, not sure what to do. Cherie had his keys, and they no longer hid a key after a rash of home robberies were blamed on keys hidden under rocks or flower pots. If he rang the bell or knocked for the sitter, Sammy would wake, and Mark would never hear the end of it.
He suddenly remembered Cherie's nagging that he'd forgotten to lock the garage's side door. He checked it, and sure enough it was open. He went inside, stopping for a moment to look at the inside of the garage door. It was damaged from a mishap with his motorcycle, and -- yet again -- Cherie had nagged at him about that, saying that it awoke Sammy and startled the sitter when they came home from their Saturday night dinner parties.
He entered the back hall way, hesitating to listen for evidence of Sammy being awake. When he didn't hear his boy, he proceeded quietly, not wanting to wake him. He reached the kitchen when he thought he heard someone. He hesitated for a moment, listening, and realized the sound was coming from the living room.
He finished the short walk through the dining room and popped out to find--
"Oh, god," he mumbled, as he looked down upon his wife's recently purchased leather love seat to find his fully nude babysitter with her hands in her groin. As she turned her head to look up at him -- and as his cock immediately began swelling and tenting his slacks -- all Mark could say was, as before, "Oh ... god."
Mark Chapman pulled the car up to the curb before his house, asking his wife Cherie again, "Do you have to go get it now?"
She bailed out without answering, curling around to meet him at the drivers side. The door was locked when she tried to open it. Mark sat there for a moment simply staring at her staring at him. Then he shook his head in disbelief, got out, and gestured her to the still running car's driver seat.
"I didn't forget it on purpose," he tried to explain. She ignored him. She got this way -- silently pissed -- when he disappointed her. She closed the door and headed away toward the store as he was repeating, "I didn't forget it on purpose!"
He stood there in the street for a long moment, just staring after her, shaking his head in dismay. He'd gone to the grocery for her that Saturday morning so that she could stay home with their three year old, Samuel, and he'd forgotten just one of the fifty or so items on the list. And for the past twelve hours, even during the dinner party, she hadn't been able to let it go!
Mark loved Cherie, he really did. But sometimes, he really despised her, too. She had lost her fun and playful side two years into the marriage, concentrating all of her attention on the start up company she and a college friend had established. It hit big, and they sold it for millions, after which the less than happy couple decided a child would fix their woes.
He hadn't. Oh, Mark and Cherie loved Sammy, and having an infant in the home brought them together as a family. But their relationship was still, and remained today, one of two individuals living under the same roof for the benefit of a child. They were no longer in love, even if they continued to love one another.
As Mark abandoned the street and headed for the house, he tried to remember the last time they'd had sex and couldn't. It had probably been before Sammy's birth.
He was so deep in thought that when he got to the locked front door and had no keys to open it, he couldn't figure out what was wrong with the current situation.
Then it came to him: normally when he and his wife went out, leaving Sammy with the babysitter, they returned to park inside the garage. They opened it with a garage door opener, then entered the house via the unlocked back hall door. No keys needed.
He stood there, just staring at the door for a long moment, not sure what to do. Cherie had his keys, and they no longer hid a key after a rash of home robberies were blamed on keys hidden under rocks or flower pots. If he rang the bell or knocked for the sitter, Sammy would wake, and Mark would never hear the end of it.
He suddenly remembered Cherie's nagging that he'd forgotten to lock the garage's side door. He checked it, and sure enough it was open. He went inside, stopping for a moment to look at the inside of the garage door. It was damaged from a mishap with his motorcycle, and -- yet again -- Cherie had nagged at him about that, saying that it awoke Sammy and startled the sitter when they came home from their Saturday night dinner parties.
He entered the back hall way, hesitating to listen for evidence of Sammy being awake. When he didn't hear his boy, he proceeded quietly, not wanting to wake him. He reached the kitchen when he thought he heard someone. He hesitated for a moment, listening, and realized the sound was coming from the living room.
He finished the short walk through the dining room and popped out to find--
"Oh, god," he mumbled, as he looked down upon his wife's recently purchased leather love seat to find his fully nude babysitter with her hands in her groin. As she turned her head to look up at him -- and as his cock immediately began swelling and tenting his slacks -- all Mark could say was, as before, "Oh ... god."
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