Misha left the shop with her multi-choices ticket. Although she was less worried than before about the total amount of the bet, she had spent too much and she knew it.
Bob’s shopping list mainly consisted of whisky, bread and meat, but she did a full shop. She wanted to have a large option available if she were to look after him. She selected luxury items she was going to use to treat him well.
Picking him up some quality new slippers and a soft, expensive dressing gown. She bought two bottles of his aftershave; she assumed it was his favourite as it was the only one she had found during her cleaning duties.
Misha returned to Bob’s home after stopping by the chemist to get his prescription.
She parked in her own drive and struggled with the bags back over to Bob’s door. She used the key for the first time and the running about was all worth it, for that alone.
She managed to get the bags into the kitchen in one trip.
She returned, unsurprised to find him, cute as ever, in the same position he’d been in when she left.
“Listen here, mister, I have bone to pick with you!” She stood in front of him all business-like.
He roused from his chair with more expression on his face than she had seen from him before.
Oh, how that pet name for her pushed her buttons!
She pressed on, “I ran about all over town for you.” Her hands were on her hips, elbows pointing away from her side.
In her hand, he saw a slip. And in the other a small white paper bag, his medical prescription.
“Yes, and I appreciate it… my dear,” he emphasized the last part.
She eased upon hearing it, her hip cocking to one side and her posture relaxing slightly as the tension left her body.
“Well, I picked up this,” she held out the bag, “and guess what?”
He said nothing.
“Well, I go and find out you’ve been telling me lies. Me, who has cooked and ironed for you.”
He looked at the woman in front of him dressed in his late wife’s Linda’s clothes; they hung too big from her petite blonde frame.
“Did you think you could get away with it?” she accused.
She took a breath through the silence.
“Well did you, Bob?”
He remained silent.
“Well, did you? This is a big thing.” She handed him the paper bag.
“You fibber,” she gently chided. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”
She sat in his lap again like before, her arms on his shoulders. She nodded to the bag. “The chemist…”
“Yeah?” He slightly relaxed.
“The chemist asks for address and date of birth. You told me you were sixty-six this year.” She kissed him on the forehead.
“Oh right,” he breathed a massive sigh of relief.
“I go and find out you’re seventy-two next week.” She kissed him again, tenderly.
“Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I wanted to make myself more appealing to you, my dear.” He regained his composure after his near heart attack. “Does it make a difference to you?”
“No fucking way, babe!” She leaned down and kissed him on the mouth with open lips, her tongue licking his lips before her mouth closed, engulfing his own.
“But this means we have to organise a special night for your birthday…” Reluctantly pulling her lips from his to speak.
“I don’t want a big fuss.”
She took a hold of his chin in her hand and looked into his eyes. “My man is having a special birthday when it comes.”
She left the warmth of his lap and went to the kitchen, returning with her purchases.
She handed him the betting slip.
“Jeez, that’s a lot of bets! I was only wanting a five-spot accumulator on,” he said, scanning the slip.
“Well, I just got so confused in my pretty little blonde head and didn’t know what to get. You can teach me when we’re watching it together later.” She teased a sultry bimbo pose.
She dropped to her knees and at his feet, she lifted his foot and removed the old slipper. Then she rolled off his once-white sock, she realised this was the first time she had seen his feet; she made a note she would need to trim his nails, soon.
She kissed the top of his foot, traced her tongue along it before kissing his toes. He squirmed in his chair.
“Is my big Bob ticklish?” she teased.
She wrapped her lips over his big toe before removing it when he flinched again.
Un-wrapping the new slippers, she then slipped them snuggly on his feet. “How do they feel, handsome?”
“Nice.” He said as he wiggled his toes inside them.
Handing him the robe. “Why don’t you get washed, then slip that on and come back. I’ll put the shopping away then slip into something more comfortable; then we can settle in for your first race.”
Bob offered no argument and he was on his way.
Misha went back to the kitchen and put the shopping away before going to the bedroom and dressing in a fine satin nightgown she found. It was a wine colour that didn’t really appeal to her and it hung almost to her ankles, but she loved the feel against her skin.
She walked barefoot from the bedroom to the kitchen; she placed freshly made sandwiches and two cups of tea on a tray and brought it through to the table just as Bob was returning, dressed in the new housecoat.
“Looking good, babe,” she admired him as she stood holding the tray. She imagined him naked underneath and fresh from the bath.
She waited for him to sit before placing the tray on the table. She took her seat on the edge of the sofa next to his chair.
He reached into the bag and pulled out two boxes.
“More presents!” He held them up.
“I could see your cologne was running low, so I picked you one up. It took me three different tries in different shops, but I found it; one is for Ken, by the way. If you are making me still live with him, the least I can do is have him smell almost as tasty as you!” She handed him his plate with the sandwich.
He bit into it without another word and switched on his racing channel.
Misha was content to sit there all day if need be, and she finished her own lunch. She tidied the plates away and gave him his tea before sitting back down.
“What would you like for your birthday, babe?”
“How about a nice new watch?” She wanted him to have something nice.
“It’s our first big celebration together; how about a weekend away together, in a nice hotel in a nice place?” She reached over to hold his thigh, “…not that we would get out to see the sites much, though.”
“Maybe in a couple of days, once we bring Ken on board,” he said.
“And when does this plan start?” she impatiently asked.
“Well, I did have— ah… fiddle around last night in the shed. I think we can be good to test it tonight.” He then sipped from his cup.
Misha knelt at his side. “Let me know what you need me to do.”
“Nothing, really. I just want you to have the radio in your kitchen turned on when he gets home. Keep him there for as long as you can; then, for as long as you can, have it on in the bedroom before bed.”
She looked at him, “That’s it?”
The rest of the afternoon Misha found herself more interested in the racing than she would have thought. She learned lots, even just taking notes over the course of the afternoon.
Later and reluctantly she left, returning home twenty minutes before Ken arrived. The radio was already on and two glasses of wine poured with a small section of foods plated when he arrived.
“Hi, hon.” She almost vomited from calling him that.
“Hey, babe,” he said.
She was angry he was allowed to call her that and found herself resisting the urge to back off as he hugged her, then kissed her cheek.
“What’s all this?” He looked more content now, seeing her make an effort.
“Dinner; come sit here,” she took the box from the table. “I picked you something up.”
“Really? You shouldn’t have…” He took the cologne from her, then his eyes scrunched before he faked a smile and gratitude. “Great.”
“Well, put some on!” She took the box and slipped out the bottle.
She ignored his protest, and dabbling some on her hands before rubbing them together, she placed them on his neck and inhaled Bob’s familiar smell.
She could tell Ken was not a fan, but he didn’t object. She washed her hands and joined him, bringing a second bottle. If I’m expected to do this, I’m at least going to be tipsy doing it, she thought, before swigging a large gulp from the glass.
“Can we change the station?” he asked.
“Nope. I like this one.”
“Okay, I’m happy to just share a meal with my beautiful wife.”
Being his wife was only a technicality, since she hadn’t fallen in love with Bob at that time; if she had, she would never have settled for anyone else. No one but Bob would do.
They sat together and Misha invented and spun a tale about a false day at the office; she listened as Ken spoke about his day, but didn’t care. She kept him as long as she could in the kitchen before he went for his shower. Misha readied the bedroom, dimmed the lighting and set the radio to a low volume in the bedroom.
“You don’t mind if I listen to it before bed, do you?” she asked.
Ken was drying his hair with the towel. “No, it’s fine. I’m starting to get into it.”
The next morning Misha had the radio on in the kitchen and his breakfast ready as Ken came down the stairs and kissed his wife.
“Misha, I’ll pick something up on the way in. Thanks, anyway.”
Ken didn’t object; he instantly found his seat.
Misha wanted to expose him longer, but had been delighted at the way he had obeyed without hesitation or real awareness.
The days to come:
Ken would obey instructions in full and to the best of his ability. Misha didn’t take things too far as Bob had made it quite clear he dared not push it too fast. She continued to sneak around with Bob while leaving a radio turned on in every room at home.
Misha would fall asleep in bed with her husband, who she would have instructed to coat himself in Bob’s favourite cologne. She would dream of Bob sleeping next to her, his warmth and huskiness under the covers beside her eager body.
Misha had woken with an arm over her, inhaling deeply the husky scent of Bob. She stroked her husband’s arm with her fingertips imaging it was Bob’s, longing to rouse him from his sleepy slumber. He would awake, climb on top of her with his cock hard; she would wrap her legs around him and lock her heels together while his cock entered deep inside her. She would let her hands roam his chest as he drilled her deeper into the mattress.
Misha’s morning fantasy was shattered.
“For God’s sake, Ken, can’t you do anything right?” Misha snapped.
Ken’s eyes widened and fell from her face. “I’m sorry, Misha.”
“And you should be. Go get ready for work.”
She took her phone off the nightstand and began to look through the sneaky snaps she’d taken of Bob over the last week; Ken got out of bed and slunk away to the bathroom.
Misha reached below the covers and to between her legs; after all, she still had the scent and some visual stimulation on her phone. She toyed with herself as she slowly scrolled through the images.
Hearing Ken sitting down on the pan before starting to pee, she continued. She was really getting into it as she kicked the covers off herself for better unrestricted access to her body.
The familiar feeling she had become accustomed to when dreaming of Bob had her worked up really well. When she opened her eyes, standing in the doorway of the toilet stood her once-manly husband. He had already dressed in a frilly, sheer, white and pink baby-doll negligee, white stockings over his strong legs. She had picked it out for him the night before, and they had even tested it underneath his work clothes. He watched her as if he were unable to move.
He simply stood watching her, waiting for her instructions.
“Okay, you can come over and hold this.”
He began to walk.
“Nope, like we practiced.”
Ken dropped to his knees; his strong defined arms took the weight of his upper body as he walked over to the bed on all fours, the muscular shape of him doing nothing to turn her on.
Ken took the phone from Misha.
“Flick through; slowly.”
Ken began as he was instructed. Misha intensified her efforts; now hands-free, she blurred out her husband in his new attire and focussed on the small screen.
She felt the orgasm take her again, and though it was nowhere near as exhilarating as Bob’s, it was enough to get her fix before seeing him shortly.
Misha relaxed and calmed her breathing. “Well, I’m going to get a freshen up. I suggest you get going to work. Since I’m leaving my job, someone needs to pay the bills.”
Ken bowed his head forward. “Yes, Misha.”
She patted his crown before slipping into the shower leaving him to dress and leave for work.
“So, he went to work wearing the underwear?”
Misha took her lips off Bob’s cock long enough to answer him, then returned. “Yep, no arguments, no questions. He’s done everything I asked.”
“Interesting how quickly he, too, has gone under, but we still need to be sure before we proceed. We can test it further at dinner tonight. I’ll come over to your place, and you can make that chicken thing I like, again.”
His hand took a soft grip on her hair as her head moved between his legs.
“You can tell him you are having an affair and we’ll test him. Remember not to say it’s me, though, in case this is too soon.”
He began to groan. “You have better suction than a hoover!”
He groaned again and filled her mouth; Misha swallowed gratefully, another thing she had learned she loved to do, after having detested it before.
She smiled at Bob as she kneeled in front of him in his big chair. “Sure, we can take it slowly, but I can’t wait for him to find out.” As she picked up her thong, she placed a finger inside the material and stretched it over her digit before using it to clean the corners of her mouth.
“Good. Now get down to that betting shop and stick those bets on while you’re getting the dinner ingredients.” He slapped her ass as she stood.
Misha took her leave and went into the bedroom to select another of Bob’s wife’s dresses. She decided for a more eighties look today.
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