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|The Offer (ff:group, 4350 words) [1/3]|
|Author: MandyMomma||Added: Apr 25 2013||Views/Reads: 16462/10979 [67%]||Part vote: 9.56 (27 votes)|
|Donna is asked to let her husband have a threesome with two other women. Will she say yes or no?|
The Offer Part One By Mandymomma DISCLAIMER: If you're looking for "quick sex", please move along. This is a "story", and there‘s something to be said for ‘anticipation‘. You have been warned! There isn't a time of year I love more than summer. Warm weather, plenty of sun, time at the shore, flowers in my garden, kids outside. I especially relish the last one. The kids are out of school, but both of them are old enough now that they spent most of their time over friend's houses. This allows me to spend less time cleaning up after the messes they always seem to create, and more out in the warmth of the sun. It was a lovely July Saturday, and I was tending to the multitude of flowers that surround my front porch. Without fail, there is always an annoying collection of weeds, leaves, bugs, or some other hazard to my lovely flora that needs taking care of. I can quite literally spend the entire day arranging, pruning, fertilizing and pampering my prized possessions. I sighed, though. It was a Saturday, and the one thing that was missing was the familiar sound of the lawn mower running in the back yard. Actually, that had become something of a trend the last few weeks. My husband, Paul, had been doing home renovations for a couple of his co-workers since the second week of June. He spent almost every Saturday and Sunday, as well as some weeknights, doing a number of major jobs he'd been offered. Not that I was complaining. The owners were paying him an excellent salary. And Lord knew we could always use the extra money. But I still missed his company around the house. Despite being married now some eighteen years, I love him just as passionately as the first day I'd met him. And his job keeps him away enough as it is. "Actually, that's not the biggest problem," I thought to myself. "The thing that drives me crazy is that he's working for two women." I knew I shouldn't think that way. Paul has been faithful to me, and was completely up front with me when the two women had first offered him the job. Erin and Valerie were secretaries in the government office building he supervised during the day. They were both single, Valerie having divorced once, Erin not even dating, as far as Paul knew. Add to it that both of them were in their mid-twenties, and I couldn't help but wonder sometimes. I hadn't actually met either one of them in person, but they had called the house and spoken with me occasionally on the phone. They seemed nice enough and they'd often invited me over to see the work Paul had been doing. I just didn't want to give the impression that I was jealous and/or just a bit suspicious at times, so I'd politely declined. I was broken out of my reverie by the sound of a truck pulling into the driveway. At first, it has sounded like Paul's pickup. But, when I lifted my head from the ground, I spotted an unfamiliar beige Ford SUV. The doors opened, and two young women hopped out of the doors. They smiled and waved, immediately heading over to me. The driver was almost five inches taller than my five-six. Long straight blonde hair streamed out behind her, which looked as if it hung to mid back when still. She wore dark sunglasses and showed off a deep tan. The passenger was only an inch or so shorter than me, with a short cut, light brunette hairstyle. The style reminded me of the one wore by Catherine Bell, the star of TV's "Army Wives." It didn't so much as curl under as it ‘rolled' under gently, framing a graceful jawbone and piercing blue eyes. Both women wore sundresses, the blonde a beige color similar to the SUV, the brunette an emerald green number. I immediately felt somewhat self-conscious. Compared to these two attractive women, I must have looked like the typical house Frau. Knowing that I would be working in the weeds and dirt, I'd opted for a pair of grungy old blue jeans and a beat up gray sweatshirt. My hair, which was permed in a loose wave normally, was pinned back to keep the hair out of my eyes. I had mud and dirt everywhere on me. As they two approached, I wiped my hands furiously on a rag I'd kept in my pants
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|This is part 1 of a total of 3 parts.|
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