I had been scheduled for a morning meeting at my company's main office in Harrisburg. Fate had other plans. Jack Winston's teenage son had gotten involved in a traffic accident while driving to school. That removed Jack from the meeting, which in turn, removed any need for a meeting. I was headed north on I-81 before nine.
I pulled into my driveway just after noon while my wife, Brooke, wasn't expecting me home before dark. I was grinning to myself about how surprised she would be as I opened the front door.
I noticed several things immediately. First, the aroma of Brooke's special recipe cake frosting filled my nostrils. Then I saw the door to the laundry room, which was to the left of the kitchen, was wide open. Inside that room were what appeared to be two small spacecraft, but which were far more likely to simply be space age technology in the form of a washer and dryer.
The thing that really caught my eye was my loving wife of 21 years standing totally naked in the entrance to the kitchen. Brooke always had been an attractive woman, but to me, she just seemed to blossom when she hit forty a couple years ago.
Her curves were fuller. Her confidence was greater. Her smile even seemed brighter. I had spent more than a little time of late wondering if women really did just hit their stride in their forties, or if men that age were just beginning to realize the true pleasures of the 'weaker sex'. Whatever it was, Brooke looked fantastic as she turned in surprise at my unexpected entrance.
"Steve!" she gasped. "I didn't expect you home for hours!"
"That's obvious," I replied smoothly. "Just who were you expecting, if not I?"
Brooke's face quickly reddened as she fought to conceal her emotions. I could almost see the wheels turning as she struggled for a response.
"Is that why you're home early? Checking up on me, Steve? Afraid I'd get bored with you gone to who knows where all the time? Worried that I'd find someone that appreciated me and could be persuaded to stay close, rather than wandering all over the place, neglecting their husbandly duties?"
Now I was caught by surprise. Brooke was complaining about my business trip? She had never mentioned any problems with it before.
"You know very well where I go and why," I shot back. "You don't seem to mind that my work enables you to get new appliances every other week. It looks like you have R2-D2 in the fucking laundry room."
"Didn't I keep asking you to fix the old washing machine? Didn't you keep telling me that you weren't "The Fucking Maytag Repairman"? Maybe you don't mind living without clean underwear, but I refuse to live like your parents and siblings!" retorted Brooke.
"I just saw Hartz's Appliance delivery truck as I came up the street. Is that where you got that washer and dryer? If it is, just how long have those two delivery guys been gone?" I asked with more than a little suspicion.
"Well, they had a little trouble getting everything through the door to the laundry room, so it took them awhile. It's a good thing they were both very strong young men. They lifted those machines like they were plastic," smiled Brooke. "It was nice to have a couple hard young male bodies around the house for a change."
"What were you wearing while those young studs were making the delivery," I asked, almost dreading the answer.
"I had on a tank top and shorts when they arrived, Mr. Nosey!" Brooke responded. "Those two guys were so cute. When they were finished, I asked if I could get them anything in appreciation for such good service. I guess they could smell something good in the kitchen. The bigger fellow told me they would like either a piece of freshly baked cake, or a really good blow job."
"I see, " I responded nervously. "The guy could smell the cake, but that was still taking an awful chance when he suggested that you give him cake, or a blow job. What if you were offended and called the police? By the way, what kind of cake did you give them?"
"Do I look like 'Fucking Betty Crocker"? laughed Brooke. "I was making that cake for dessert for dinner tonight and I knew you'd be disappointed if someone else ate it. I just couldn't spare any cake."
"Exactly what are you telling me, Brooke?" I asked as I moved closer to her. "I don't want to seem obtuse, but you'll have to spell it out for me."
"You can figure it out for yourself, Steve," chided Brooke. "They gave me a choice. I didn't choose the cake."
"Brooke! For God's sake! Those two guys are..."
"Hung like horses? Hornier than a two peckered billy goat? Men that make a woman feel desirable? Absolute studs? Is that what you were going to say?" demanded Brooke.
"No. I was going to say that they were both in your history class a few years ago! They were your students! They can't be much over twenty years old. The one kid is Mrs. Hunt's son. She's on the school board! You could have this all blow up in your face."
"Were you peeking?" asked Brooke. "That's exactly what happened!"