back.
In the sunlight that’s flooding the living room I can see that Parker is a beautiful man, with well-defined, angular features, full lips that are a deep red, those Arctic blue eyes that look devastating against his tanned skin, and a body that I could tell is ripped even if I hadn’t seen those shirtless pictures of him on Facebook.
He is still standing by the couch, as if waiting for permission to sit. I smile at him once more, blinking as I look away for a moment.
“Please, guys,” I say to the two Marines, almost laughing at how formal they look. “Sit. Both of you.”
Parker nods and takes a seat, but Jason remains standing. He almost looks uncomfortable now, and this makes me strangely uncomfortable as well, although I don’t know why.
“I’ll be outside, Ma’am,” he says stiffly, still not making eye contact with me. “On the porch right outside. In case you—”
But he stops mid-sentence, nods once at Parker, and then walks to the front door as I force a smile and nod back at him. Clearly he is a bit embarrassed to imply that he might be needed to . . . I don’t know . . . pull Parker off me in case I start screaming for him to stop? It seems so ridiculous now, I think as I glance over at Parker, who is sitting quietly on the couch, staring straight ahead at the blank laptop screen and the webcam on the dining table in front of us.
Jason is gone now, and I watch Parker for a moment longer. He is looking at the armchair that Jason moved in front of the camera now, and I can see a bit of color rush to his face as he shifts his gaze to me now, taking in the sight of my smooth legs, my rounded calves, my thighs and ass in this thin yellow sundress. He blinks as his eyes rest on my boobs for a moment, and when he makes eye contact with me I can see him turn even redder in the face.
“Hi,” he says now, smiling and blinking again as I start to walk over to the couch.
“Hi,” I say softly, feeling strange as I get close to him. I have barely spoken to this man, I realize. All I know about him is what I’ve seen on his Facebook page. I never tried to contact him, although Chris told me I could if I wanted. But no, I didn’t want to contact him beforehand, didn’t want to get to know him. In a way I LIKE the idea that I barely know this man. It excites me. It is actually arousing for me to think that I’m going to be sleeping with a man I barely know, someone that my husband, my Chris, the love of my life, has chosen for me. The anonymity makes it clearer to me that this isn’t about Parker at all. It’s about me and Chris. Parker may as well be a dildo, a sex toy, a tool, I think as I get closer to him and allow myself to glance at his heavy crotch as he sits there on my couch, his legs spread wide to accommodate what already looks like the beginning of a massive erection.
Now I glance at the camera on the table and look over at Parker again.
“Should I turn it on?” I ask, even though there is no reason for me to ask him that.
Parker smiles now, shrugging once and then nodding. “Sure,” he says. “Whenever you’re comfortable, Ma’am. It’s your show.”
I smile and walk over to the camera and turn it on. Then I open up Skype and start to get online as I feel a slight nervousness again. But this nervousness is simply the flow of adrenaline, I know. It is show time, I realize.
It is show time.
16
CHRIS
T he adrenaline pounds its way into my bloodstream as I see my computer screen flicker while Amy gets online. Jason called me just a few minutes ago to say that he was outside on the porch and Parker was inside with my wife, with my goddamn WIFE!
Every second after that phone call felt like an eternity as my imagination ran wild with scenes of what was happening in my house, with my wife. Why isn’t she online yet, I was thinking. I mean, in our conversations over the past couple of weeks I did tell her that she should only turn on the camera once she’s comfortable and
In the sunlight that’s flooding the living room I can see that Parker is a beautiful man, with well-defined, angular features, full lips that are a deep red, those Arctic blue eyes that look devastating against his tanned skin, and a body that I could tell is ripped even if I hadn’t seen those shirtless pictures of him on Facebook.
He is still standing by the couch, as if waiting for permission to sit. I smile at him once more, blinking as I look away for a moment.
“Please, guys,” I say to the two Marines, almost laughing at how formal they look. “Sit. Both of you.”
Parker nods and takes a seat, but Jason remains standing. He almost looks uncomfortable now, and this makes me strangely uncomfortable as well, although I don’t know why.
“I’ll be outside, Ma’am,” he says stiffly, still not making eye contact with me. “On the porch right outside. In case you—”
But he stops mid-sentence, nods once at Parker, and then walks to the front door as I force a smile and nod back at him. Clearly he is a bit embarrassed to imply that he might be needed to . . . I don’t know . . . pull Parker off me in case I start screaming for him to stop? It seems so ridiculous now, I think as I glance over at Parker, who is sitting quietly on the couch, staring straight ahead at the blank laptop screen and the webcam on the dining table in front of us.
Jason is gone now, and I watch Parker for a moment longer. He is looking at the armchair that Jason moved in front of the camera now, and I can see a bit of color rush to his face as he shifts his gaze to me now, taking in the sight of my smooth legs, my rounded calves, my thighs and ass in this thin yellow sundress. He blinks as his eyes rest on my boobs for a moment, and when he makes eye contact with me I can see him turn even redder in the face.
“Hi,” he says now, smiling and blinking again as I start to walk over to the couch.
“Hi,” I say softly, feeling strange as I get close to him. I have barely spoken to this man, I realize. All I know about him is what I’ve seen on his Facebook page. I never tried to contact him, although Chris told me I could if I wanted. But no, I didn’t want to contact him beforehand, didn’t want to get to know him. In a way I LIKE the idea that I barely know this man. It excites me. It is actually arousing for me to think that I’m going to be sleeping with a man I barely know, someone that my husband, my Chris, the love of my life, has chosen for me. The anonymity makes it clearer to me that this isn’t about Parker at all. It’s about me and Chris. Parker may as well be a dildo, a sex toy, a tool, I think as I get closer to him and allow myself to glance at his heavy crotch as he sits there on my couch, his legs spread wide to accommodate what already looks like the beginning of a massive erection.
Now I glance at the camera on the table and look over at Parker again.
“Should I turn it on?” I ask, even though there is no reason for me to ask him that.
Parker smiles now, shrugging once and then nodding. “Sure,” he says. “Whenever you’re comfortable, Ma’am. It’s your show.”
I smile and walk over to the camera and turn it on. Then I open up Skype and start to get online as I feel a slight nervousness again. But this nervousness is simply the flow of adrenaline, I know. It is show time, I realize.
It is show time.
16
CHRIS
T he adrenaline pounds its way into my bloodstream as I see my computer screen flicker while Amy gets online. Jason called me just a few minutes ago to say that he was outside on the porch and Parker was inside with my wife, with my goddamn WIFE!
Every second after that phone call felt like an eternity as my imagination ran wild with scenes of what was happening in my house, with my wife. Why isn’t she online yet, I was thinking. I mean, in our conversations over the past couple of weeks I did tell her that she should only turn on the camera once she’s comfortable and
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