My eyes adjusted and I saw that it was the student from downstairs.
I realized I didn’t care that he was watching me, or rather, I wasn’t embarrassed.
The knowledge that he was enjoying watching me get licked between the legs turned me on, and brought my orgasm on quicker than normal.
“Ahhhh!” I moaned loudly, as Ethan tickled my clit with the tip of his tongue and tightly gripped my thighs.
It turned me on so much that the man was staring at me, only two feet away.
I could hear his breathing get heavy.
I lay back as my orgasm peaked, my body shaking as I came.
When I opened my eyes the man had gone.
I wondered if he would be taking the professor home to give her a spanking.
Ethan had crawled up beside me, kissing me.
I could taste my own juices on his lips.
He didn’t spank me that night (the people downstairs would have definitely heard us) but he would in the days to come.
It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship, and we were married a year after graduation.
I had always intended to become a doctor, but after Ethan and I had graduated with our Bachelors, we had a mountain of student debt to overcome.
Obviously we couldn’t afford to buy even a modest house or condo, so we rented a small one bedroom apartment in a slightly run-down area of Brooklyn.
The neighborhood wasn’t the greatest, but it had potential.
Ethan was offered a scholarship to a Masters Business program, which was perfect, since he wanted to become a stock broker or securities trader.
Most of his tuition would be paid for while he interned at a brokerage firm, and he would also be getting a small base salary.
It was a generous offer by internship standards, which sometimes don’t pay anything at all.
Ethan’s office was in Manhattan, a forty-minute commute by train.
The hours would be long and the pay low, at least for the first year or two.
Ethan looked to be on a quicker path to making money with his career, so we decided to put my own education on hold until he got settled.
I got a job at the local pharmacy, assisting the pharmacist behind the counter by stocking shelves and ringing up customer purchases.
It wasn’t much, but it beat working at as a cashier at a mega-store, and might serve me well later as I gained some work experience before returning to school.
We went out to dinner to celebrate Ethan’s new position, splurging a bit on a bottle of wine we couldn’t really afford.
“After I’m hired full-time, we’ll be able to afford to send you to med school,” Ethan had said during our dinner celebrating his acceptance to the brokerage.
I was thrilled with the idea.
We were optimistic but we knew it wouldn’t be easy; Ethan’s modest starting salary wouldn’t make a dent in our student loans, so I floated another idea during dinner.
“Honey, it will be a couple of years before that happens, and I don’t want to be at the pharmacy forever.” I took a sip of our too- expensive wine.
“Forever?
Are you worried that things won’t turn out as planned?” “No, I’m exaggerating a bit.
What I mean is, things have a way of taking longer than we think.
You might not get the salary you want as soon as you want, or an unexpected expense will crop up which will delay the repayment of our loans.” “” “If you’re worried that you won’t be able to go to medical school–” “No, it’s not that.” “What did you have in mind?” Ethan asked.
“I’ve always been interested in architecture and interior decorating.
There’s a program at the local community college I’m interested in.” “A whole program?
How long does it take?” “One year, part time in the evenings, so I can continue working at the drug store, and then move into decorating.
It’s sure to pay more than the minimum wage I’m getting at the pharmacy.” “Sure, but only if you can get some clients first.
And you still want to be a doctor, don’t you?
It was your lifelong dream.” “Of course, but what I’m saying is, I guess that I’m no longer set on the idea.
I love architecture, and interior decorating will certainly pay us quicker, and getting clients may not be a problem.
I was thinking of asking June if I could come work for her.
Temporarily, of course.
“June?” “She’s a friend of a friend.
I’ve seen her about five times over the last couple of years when the girls get together for lunch.” I had managed to keep in touch with a few classmates, and some of them lived in the New York City area.
June hadn’t been a classmate, but she was best friends with one.
I liked her, and more importantly for our situation, she had a thriving business and was looking for help to expand.So that’s what I planned.
I had a flair for the job, and soon I had satisfied clients recommending me to their friends.
I came to a decision which I thought would be hard, but wasn’t: I no longer wanted to be a doctor.
I enjoyed working with clients and fulfilling their decorating needs, and the pay was very good.
At the three year mark we had paid back the majority of our student loans, and we purchased a small townhouse in a nicer area of Brooklyn.
Things picked up quickly from there.
After I had been working under June for five years, her business was thriving.
She had to hire two other employees, Susan and Cathy.
They both had a keen eye for design and good people skills, so they fit in nicely with the small firm.
Cathy was single, just 24, only a couple of years out of college.
She was fairly introverted but very good with clients, usually establishing trust with them very quickly.
She was a bit taller than me, and very slim, with long dark hair.
Susan was about thirty, about my height, slim with a nice feminine figure, and married.
I recall Susan mentioning that her husband Mark was six years younger than her.
Occasionally she would complain about him still addicted to video games, and how immature he and his friends were.
Still, their marriage seemed strong.
Soon after they were hired, June bought a competitor’s business, expanding her company to the west coast.
She offered to let me manage the Brooklyn office, where Susan and Cathy would report to me.
I jumped at the chance.
I never went to medical school, and I have no regrets.
I’ve heard of other spouses feeling bitter when one makes a sacrifice for the other’s career, giving up on their goals, but I didn’t feel that way.
My lifelong dream of becoming a doctor was replaced with a career that I loved, and I had never been happier.
Ethan was very supportive along the way, and even managed to steer me some clients, some of whom were his work colleagues.
Speaking of which, Ethan was doing very well financially.
In fact, thanks in part to Ethan recommending me to his affluent friends, revenue increased to the point where I was able to buy the New York office from June.
I had to sign a non-compete agreement, stating that I would not expand out west, but that was fine.
June was happy to trim the business and concentrate on Los Angeles.
Ethan and I were never in a rush to have children, especially during the early years when we were getting our careers going.
Now that we were more or less established and both 33 years old, we still didn’t feel the need to raise a family.
We figured if it happened, it happened.
Otherwise, we were quite content to have it be just the two of us.
I should mention that I got along quite well with Ethan’s parents.
This is pivotal to the story, at least when it comes to Ethan’s father, James.
I won’t go into detail about my interaction with James yet, because…
well, it will all become clear as the story unfolds.
Ethan’s mother Irene and James had been married thirty-four years.
They had gotten married young, at least compared to today’s norm.
At sixty, Irene was older than James by five years.
I chastise myself for being superficial, but the age difference between them looks like it is more than five years.
James had always been fit and trim.
He still plays tennis regularly, and can beat men half his age.
At 6’1″ he’s an inch taller than Martin, with a slightly heavier build, probably weighing an even 200 lbs.
Both of them are handsome and have the same medium-brown hair, though James is more salt and pepper now.
Irene doesn’t look older than sixty, but unfortunately she dresses her age, wearing too many silver necklaces and too much makeup.
Again, I don’t want to sound glib, but she would look so much better if she would tone it down, but I never made the suggestion because we aren’t that close, and didn’t want to offended her.
I guess if I’m describing my husband and in-laws physical appearance, I should describe myself.
I’m about average height and weight, with very dark brown hair, almost black, fair skin with a hint of an olive tone owing to my French background.
I have an hourglass figure, 36C-25-37.
I had always been self-conscious about my slightly fuller bottom, but every man I’ve ever been with has complemented my behind.
Sometimes when I give a little extra sway to my hips it will get Ethan going.
He knows that when I do that I want sex, and he gives it to me, almost as much as I want.
I don’t say ‘almost’ as a complaint…
we have sex about once or twice a week.
Maybe five times would be ideal for me, but being deprived of sex just a little bit increases your appetite, and makes the rest of the sex that much better.
Getting back to my business, I had two very capable employees in Susan and Cathy, but I always took care of my best clients myself.
Such was the case when James mentioned a friend of his who had bought a new place in Lawrence, a very upscale neighborhood not far from Brooklyn.
James and Irene were at our place for dinner on a Wednesday when James broached the subject.
“It’s an old house, but in a good little pocket.
It was renovated by the previous owner before the sale, but right now it’s kind of tacky, not tasteful,” James said as he leaned back in his chair after finishing the last bit of food on his plate.
“Eric doesn’t like the way his wife decorates, so they’ve come to a diplomatic solution…
hire a professional with a good reputation,” he smiled.
I smiled back at the compliment.
“James, don’t force the job on her,” Irene scolded.
“Rain is so busy, she might not have time to take on a new client.” “Oh I don’t mind,” I replied.
“Things aren’t quite so hectic with the help at the office.
They do most of the work these days.” “Great!” James said.
“I confess that I already promised Eric that you’d do it, so you’re saving me from an embarrassing conversation if you had said no.” Ethan looked a little annoyed, but didn’t say anything.
“When would Eric like me to take a look at the place?” I asked.
“Ah, this weekend.
Saturday afternoon.” “Dad, c’mon!” Ethan said.
“Rain and I had plans to go shopping for a new couch.
I’m sure Becky would love the business, but in the future don’t make promises you can’t keep.
She has a lot on her plate, and might not be comfortable saying no.” “All right, fine,” James said.
“I’m sure we can go couch shopping on Sunday Ethan,” I said.
“I have a golf game Sunday with some guys from work.
But I guess we could go shopping the next weekend.” “Good, then it’s settled.
James, can you text me Eric’s address?” “Absolutely.” As dinner was over James excused himself from the table and made a call.
I overheard him speaking with Eric, saying everything was set, and that he would be thrilled with my work.
A few minutes later James texted me all the details.
During the next couple of days I looked over the photos and floor plans of Eric’s house that James had forwarded to me.
It was a large space and a big job.
Eric’s wife Pam had called me, offering her full support and giving me free reign, keeping in mind that they wanted a ‘rustic’ theme, with some genuine antiques thrown in.
I always use some past work that I’m especially proud of for new projects, while adding something unique to make every job personalized.