Tim always tells me I’m paranoid. That I overthink things. Sometimes, he’s right. But sometimes, he’s wrong. Without a doubt, this time he was wrong.

I realized Dean, the guy who’d come in to refurbish our basement floor, was watching me. A lot. Not in a stalker way, but an admiring way. He was tall and lean, with mocha-colored skin and muscles that begged to be caressed.

I thought about him more than once, while Tim and I were fucking.

I’m not one to step out, but the man made me horny.

So, I set about fulfilling a fantasy.

One day, Dean was laboring in the basement, while Tim was upstairs working on his computer. I was in the kitchen making focaccia dough, so it would have time to rise before dinner.

Just as I finished washing up, I heard... Read More