Bad Girls, Good Times update

She closed her eyes and drifted: not quite asleep, with the chilled water lapping at her and L.A. being as loud as it ever was, even in this nice neighborhood. But she was relaxed, and that felt a million miles away from the near-panic attack she’d had in the bathroom.

Syd had been right.

She didn’t notice Patrick’s presence until he slipped into the pool with her. “Honey, I’m home.”

“Patrick!” She was surprised to see him, but not shocked. “What are you doing here?”

“Remembering how lucky I am,” he said, eyes drinking in her bikinied body. He gave the float she was lounging on a spin to admire her from a multitude of new angles. “How was work?”

“Syd cornered me in the bathroom,” Nancy said, in a nervy rush that was shockingly casual, considering. “I nearly fucked her. I’m really attracted to her. She wants us to have another threesome with her.”

“And you thought you’d run it by me first?”

Nancy nodded.

“Did you think I’d say no?”

“A part of me might have been hoping you would—but I guess because I thought I should’vebeen hoping you’d say no… I’m really attracted to Syd.”

“I know the guy is usually the last to know these things, but I’m not particularly worried you’re a lesbian. I mean, you’ve been a lot more enthusiastic than some girls I’ve known, so if you’re a lesbian, then I’ve dated some absolute bulls in my time.”

“Pat,” Nancy moaned, not amused by his attempt to lighten the mood.

“Of course I’m okay with it,” Patrick said, refocusing like the attorney he was when a line of questioning was rebuked. “If you’re not okay with it, just tell Syd you don’t want to do it. Blame me if you want. I can always be a prude on demand—I’m raising a teenage girl.”

“I don’t want to say I don’t want to do it… I do want to do it…”

“So why are you so nervous?” Patrick finished for her.

Nancy slipped off the float, into the water with her husband, and they circled each other. Patrick moved closer, the nakedness of his virile body touching to her bare skin. It was like it had been with Syd. The same… thrilling tremor Nancy had to suppress to keep from mindlessly giving into what her cunt wanted.

Patrick was so experienced, so masculine, but he was still as potent as a young man, as excited to have her as a groom on his wedding night. The thought of being his lover still exhilarated Nancy.

What did it matter if Syd thrilled her too?

“Is it because it’s a taboo?” Patrick asked.

Nancy nodded mutely.

“Then if you break it, I’ll just have to punish you.”

Nancy was suddenly aware of her bikini bottoms on her pussy, rubbing against the lips of her labia, holding down her hot, swelling clit. Wet. Hot.

“How would you punish me?” she asked, not trying to make it sound like a come-on, but it just happened that way.

“That depends. Where’d you put your handcuffs?”

She remembered when Patrick would slip inside her sometimes and just hold himself in her, feeling her, savoring her. She could come sometimes, just feeling him throb, feeling him inside.

Nancy didn’t exactly think of herself as a good girl, but she had to be something and Syd was the bad girl. It gave her a charge to be with Patrick, knowing he was her husband, the father of her child, her life, her home, her man.

She didn’t think she’d get that if he were just some anonymous hook-up at the bar. Even with his body, all his skill, the thing that really got to her was that he was hers.

But there was a charge in going the opposite direction too. Being naughty. Being dirty. She’d never want to lose Patrick, let him go, but if she could have him and this other thing, this wrongness that turned her on when it absolutely shouldn’t have…

Well. It’d be unappreciative of her loving husband if she didn’t take him up on his generous offer and fuck that bitch Syd right alongside him.

“Can Syd get punished too?” Nancy asked, hating how slutty her voice sounded. Loving it too. “She needs to be punished for making me feel this way. Like a whore.”

“How should I punish her?” Patrick asked, pulling her close and his body was hard as rock and his cock was even harder and his trunks, her bikini, they both seemed to disappear, letting him inside her because there was no barring the way and then he was in her, throbbing in her, letting her come just from feeling how he throbbed. Harder than ever, even before he started to thrust.

Nancy told him. Without knowing she’d ever thought about it, she had endless ideas of what they could do with Sydney.

***

When Patrick came home, he wasn’t expecting Nancy to be there. She worked late, even later than him. But there she was—dressed more like she wasn’t really there, but only a figment of an inflamed libido.

She wore an apron about her waist, substantial enough to serve as a skirt, but so light and thin that it lay against her groin to show him the toned roundness of her thighs and the valley between her legs. Clinging as tightly as a spider’s web in the breeze from the air conditioner, which no doubt Nancy had positioned herself to take advantage of.

Above the waist, all she wore was a red lace bra. Scarlet threads doing what little they could to accentuate her plump, perfect breasts. She looked beautiful. She always looked beautiful. But what she was wearing now gave her an air of sexual availability.

Nancy wouldn’t dress this way unless she wanted to be his. It was as much offering as it was temptation. She’d even added her sparkly engagement ring onto her finger alongside her more sturdy wedding band.

Nancy waved at him, showing it off as if bragging that she belonged to him. Or maybe just reminding him that it was his job to satisfy her, even if she’d allowed Syd to try her hand at it.

“Hey there, hubby. I got home early, so I thought I’d fix a big meal for you, with a big dessert. But all I had time to whip up was a dry martini. Now where did I put that…”

She turned around. Spotted the martini glass on the ground. She bent over to pick it up. Her ripe round buttocks burst into view. Tanned the same sumptuous butterscotch as the rest of her, separated by a thin wisp of white panties like a jewel laid in gold.

Patrick’s manhood was rock-hard already—all of him going stiff with Nancy’s potent submissiveness and all-out offensive of sexuality. His fingers twisted into fists; he could almost feel her smooth, supple skin relenting under the strength of his grip. “Don’t you dare straighten up.”

Nancy twisted her head, looking at him from off to the side of her lusciously displayed ass. “What’s the matter, dear? Don’t you want your martini?”

“The last thing I want to be right now is cooled off.”

Nancy surreptitiously took a sip of the martini herself as he approached. She heard his zipper come out and let out a little whimper. Then he had her skirt up over her waist, even further up than it already was, and he fondled the fullness of her buttocks. Relishing the reality that only a moment ago had been something out of a sexual fantasy.

Her flesh was cool from the air conditioning that had swirled up under her apron and no doubt tickled her where she was most sensitive. Keeping her nice and ready for him. But it was starting to warm up.

Patrick tried to hurry that along. He pulled at her panties roughly, tearing them right off her. Nancy squealed in delight and wiggled her ass to encourage him. She certainly hadn’t put on this outfit because she wanted him to be gentle with her…

“Ooohh… Daddy is home!”

Nancy grinned over her shoulder at him. Her long blonde hair fell across her face. She knew how it looked to him. Wanton. Passionate. Savage, even. Like she might bite him if he didn’t defang her. Patrick’s hand ran over her wet slot.

“Mmmm… not so rough… you’ll make me loud… we’ll wake the whole neighborhood.”

“It’s seven o’clock. People should be awake.”

“Not your rich neighbors… with their home owners associations… they’ll call the cops on us, just because they find some of my panties in their begonias after you rip them off me…”

Patrick saw lust clouding her eyes. Her little homemaker act might dislike the idea, but Nancy loved it. It made her wet enough to let him right in when he jammed two fingers into her cunt.

“Let them call the cops,” Patrick said ironically. “I know how to handle cops.”