So, ok - I’m outside, raking my lawn. Weeding a little. It’s a Sunday, stuff like this helps me deco
So, ok - I’m outside, raking my lawn. Weeding a little. It’s a Sunday, stuff like this helps me decompress after a long week. Sheryl’s out; I’ve got time to myself. I like this sort of thing, some physical labor once in a while. I really do.So, ok - I’m down on my knees near the curb, yanking some stray dandelions and tossing them onto the tarp. Though it’s a sunny, relatively hot day today, things aren’t growing as fast, this time of year - but these weeds never stop! I pay a guy to mow, and he’s supposed to put down some weedkiller b-I don’t even hear her approach.“Hiiiiii Dr. J…!!!”So, ok - What?!?!I look up, surprised already by the voice but heart dropping deeper when I see her, sitting above me on a bicycle.“Melissa..??” I exclaim, sounding too shocked, frozen in place on the ground and getting a giggle out of her, “hehey… what are you doing here??” So many million thoughts flew threw my head that I have no chance of describing them here. Why was she here?? What if my wife comes home, sees us talking?? And how did she find out where I lived?? “Aw, I hope it’s okay I dropped by…” she began, maybe seeing my agitation. She was just now coming to stand, standing up astride her magenta bicycle, hourglass profile rising even taller above me, “I was riding with some friends along the River Path, and I, like, knew you lived in town so…”Her smile sparkled and she twisted her overdeveloped torso just a bit towards me.“…I thought I’d come visit!”“So, well, that’s great, welcome,” I managed, slapping the dirt from my gloved hands as I stood, my nearly-middle-aged knees creaking. I smiled, and tried to look relaxed, tried not to goggle at - jesus, I’ve never seen her in clothes as tight as this before. Tight blue tank, black yoga pants. And is it a bikini top she’s wearing beneath? With the back of my wrist I wiped actual sweat from my brow. “That’s a few miles away, the river path-”“Is your wife home?” she asked, pointedly, watching me start to brush dirt from the knees of my jeans as I tried to come up with a plan: what am I supposed to do?? I’m totally nervous already. I can just imagine the neighbors peering out their windows, watching me talking with this tall, young…bombshell. They don’t know she’s my Office Manager. All they’ll see is that mane of hair, that ass…’what could they be talking about?’ ’does Sheryl know her?’ ‘you know he had that affair a few years back…’ “No, uh, she’s not…” I remark, admiring the slight sheen of exertion on her perfectly soft-looking skin, “she’s at a garden club meeting.” It’s really not the garden club…“Oh yeah you told me that!” Melissa giggled, recalling our conversation over coffee but looking past me, now, over my shoulder. “Really nice house…”“Oh, uh yeah…thanks,” I replied, turning for a moment to look back at the house. It’s kind of a mish-mash colonial spanish-style thing, but it is a nice place. Two stories. I pause thoughtfully before continuing in a little gush of honesty. “It’s…too big for us, just us two,” I said, a deep breath, “we bought it years ago, thinking we’d have kids some day…”Another pause, this time from her, now behind me. I heard her laying her bike down, walking towards me….