“I got it opened, Mrs. Ascott,” Ron said as he looked up at me, standing there in one of his t-shirts. “That looks better on you than it ever would on me,” he smiled as he set a long screwdriver on the table.
“I doubt that,” I answered boldly. He stared at me for a second and I wondered if my nipples were showing again but I didn’t dare look down. I watched his lips curl into a half smile as if he could read my mind.
“Thank you,” I said stepping towards the door. “I better be going.” I was standing right next to him and my heart was pounding as I imagined him watching me get ready for bed.
“Anytime,” he said in such a way that it could mean whatever I wanted it to.
“You’re a lifesaver, Ron,” I said, leaning up and chastely kissing his cheek.
“Like a knight in shining armor,” he joked.
“Well, a knight in sweatpants,” I said, laughing as I tapped my finger against his bare chest. Fuck! It was like touching solid steel. I wondered if his bulge was that hard. Stop it!
“Rescuing naked damsels is my specialty,” he said, wrapping his large, dark hand around mine. “Call me if you need anything,” he smiled, saying anything like it could be a broken cabinet hinge or a night of sexual bliss. I pulled my hand away and rushed out the door.
What a night! My husband was still fucking his young slut of a co-worker and I was staring out my window, wondering whether I wanted to pull the curtains closed. Standing in the middle of my bedroom, still wearing Ron’s t-shirt, I pictured him watching me. Are you there with your binoculars? Do you want to see me naked? Do you want to come over? Stop it! Where did that come from?
Well, why not? It isn’t like I’d be the only one in this marriage who was unfaithful and that was an awfully large bulge. He’s watching me anyway. He’s already seen me naked, why shouldn’t I see him. I wanted to take his t-shirt off and press my breasts against the window. I wished the t-shirt smelled like him instead of like a dryer sheet.
I grabbed the phone and scrolled through our contact list. A few months ago we had a neighborhood watch meeting where they had us input each other’s phone numbers in case of emergency. Well, wasn’t this ache in my heart, not to mention the itch between my legs, somewhat of an emergency? I took a deep breath and pressed call.
“Hi Beth,” he answered.
“Hi Ron,” I said lamely.
“Did you forget something?” he asked, sounding somewhat amused.
“I was… um… wondering if you wanted to come over and get your t-shirt,” I said, knowing this wasn’t about the t-shirt.
“Why don’t you bring it back to me?” he asked calmly.
“My husband won’t be home tonight if that’s what you’re worried about,” I said, getting bolder as I stepped closer to the window.
“That’s not it,” he said quietly. “I just think it’s polite to return things you borrow, don’t you?”
“You want me to bring it to you?” I asked, thinking about his bedroom and his king-sized bed.
“Don’t you usually return things you borrow?” he asked, avoiding my question.
“Yes,” I answered starting to pull the t-shirt over my head as I stared out the window.