Rat-a-tat-tat! The banging on the back door could only mean one thing; Tommy was here to visit with Jimmy.
Without waiting for an answer, Tommy popped open the screen door and marched into the kitchen. "Jimmy around?"
"I'm sorry, Tom, but Jimmy and his dad went shopping for a new bike," replied Mrs. Overton, "he should be home in an hour or so if you care to wait."
The teenager stood in the middle of the kitchen and pondered for a few seconds and answered back, "Yeah, I'll wait, is it okay if I watch television in the basement?"
"Sure," Mrs. Overton replied, "go right on down, I'll tell Jimmy you're here as soon as he gets back!"
"Fuck me!"
The echo, the plea in my wife's voice, the insistent growl of her eager submission, those words excited me hard, almost terrifying me as they cut my soul. I loosened my grip, letting Andrea's dark-golden locks slip from the hard knot of my fingers. She moaned low, with a melted wanton glare in her big brown eyes. I turned to look out the window. A dim reflection stared back at me.
"Is he out there?" I asked softly.
"Who?" Andrea asked, suddenly nervous.
"You're mine," I said, tightening my grip on her hair again, drawing her head back. Her mouth opened and her eyes closed.
"Fuck me," she purred.