EroticReverie

Leena Lively 

I stand in front of the mirror, my eyes forward, not watching my reflection, but the reflection of my husband, behind me, naked in the shower. My eyes trailing over every inch of his perfectly sculpted body. My eyes narrow into slits, the force with which i'm rubbing a mixture of lotion and oil into my hands and forearms, more and more aggressive as I think about what's transpired over the past months. 

My eyes drop to the flacid length of his cock. He wasn't a grower, he was a shower. I remember the first time we met, my eyes unable to avoid the package that was pressed against the tight crotch of his pants as he sat next to me at my cousins wedding. He was another womans plus one, but took me home that night instead. At twenty years old, I fell in love with Brendan Lively who at the time had been thirty five. In less than a month, I was living in his mansion, in his gated community, with an engagement ring on my finger. We were married by the end of the year. 

"Keep staring at it like that and you and me are gonna need another shower." He says and my eyes lift and I smile. 

"Not sure you can handle another round with me." I say with a teasing tone and playfuly wink. 

"I always handle you. Don't pretend I don't." He says and then grabs his cock and pumps his fist along it. 

"Don't start anything you don't plan on finishing yourself." I say and then turn and walk out of the bathroom, looking over my shoulder and I smirking at him over it. He groans to himself his eyes trailing up and down the body that he'd just ravaged on the balcony outside of our window. 

I walk over to the bed, slipping under the covers and laying on my back. Listening to the shower run for several more minutes, and listening to the faint grunt of my husband finishing himself off in the shower. 

His phone lights up on his side of the bed, on his nightstand. I don't even have to look. I know who it is. It's her. 

-------------Three Months Earlier-----------

It was oddly suspicious that the new physical therapist my husband had hired for his company, was also our new neighbor. Todd, the old physical therpaist had retired. My husband Brendan had an in office specialist that went around weekly to work with his many employees on posture, and exercizes to keep them fit  while working at their desks most of the days. Employees could make appointments even for non work related body ailments. 

Krystal Hart, thirty seven, five foot six, the same height as me. Blonde hair, the same as me, although hers was clearly fake, given her dark brows. It was also a cheap shade of blonde, one that screamed "bimbo" right along with her augmented balloons on her chest. I could tell just upon our first meeting, that the women had more surgeries done that I had fingers and toes. Her skin was tight, trying to combat her wrinkles with botox. Her lips, too full, and the top one had the clear sign off fillers that had migrates and left a pronounced line above her natural lip line. Her nose too thin, over done. Her surgeon sucked. Veneers. Brown eyes, and lash extensions.  Her husband, David Hart, a few years younger than my own. An average looking man, brown hair, brown eyes, six feet tall, clearly not as in shape as my own husband. He had a little bit of a gut, but he was fairly attractive. 

They'd moved in last week, and already, Krystal Hart had invited herself over twice this week with her husband. Well, my husband had invited them, but only because of Krystal's not so subtle ways of guilting Brendan into having them over. Once for dinner, another for watching a golf game on the television. 

Krystal Hart was as fake as her tits. She tried to hard to be someone she clearly was not. I could tell just by looking at her the first time I saw her, that she didn't come from money, that she married into it. Her clothes were designer, but she didn't wear them, they wore her. She laughed at everything Brendan said. Louder than she laughed at her own husbands jokes. She tried too hard to fit in, whereas I simply fit in. 

"I don't like her." I told Brendan after her and her husband left that afternoon. 

"Leena, be nice." Brendan said as he came up behind me as I stood out back, watching across spread of our lawn that met theirs at the perfectly trimmed hedges. His hands gripped my waist and he dipped his head down, kissing my shoulder, my neck. 

"I'm always nice." I say and he laughed softly and nipped my ear. 

"Come inside and be nice to me with your clothes off." He whispered and I'd turned and smiled and looked up at my husband, and went inside, and fucked his brains out, like I always do. 

Brendan was insatiable. He constantly wanted me. Lucky for him, I was just as insatiable and just as madly in love with him as he was with me. A perfect match. Everyone always said so. We said so too. 

When we laid in bed that night , my husband fully satisfied and snoring softly, I laid there , thinking of her. Krystal Hart. The way she looked at Brendan. The way her husband David looked at her like she hung the fucking moon. I didn't like my new neighbor, and I definitely didn't like the way she looked at my husband, or the fact she'd be working in the same building with him. My husband was well kept. Has no reason to stray. Yet, he has before. 

Brendan doesn't know that I knew about his almost affair with the tiny little brunette at his office. Some bitch named Marylin. He doesn't know I keep an eye on him like a fucking hawk. That I have ever since I moved in with him only a month after dating. Brendan Lively, was MY fucking man, and any bitch that threatened that, would be dealt with. I dealt with Marylin, and I'd fucking deal with Krystal too if need be. 

I turned my head and looked at my sleeping husband. Wondering if he knew just how much I loved him. The thing I've done, and things I'd do again to keep him.