Misha falls deeper under her elderly neighbour's control.
Part 4
She patted his chest. She calmed herself from the anger of being separated from Bob next door, reminding herself of the plan.
"I mean, it's okay. I want us to just go back to the way it was; we're all good."
She licked his lips, leaving a saliva trail on her husband's lips.
"Are you sure? I got a real fright," he asked, between the confusion of mixed signals.
"It's all okay, baby. I'm going to stick some night stuff on and get comfortable. See you when you get up."
She watched him as he took the tips of his fingers to his lips, then to his nose. She smirked to herself and took note; she would tell Bob about that tomorrow. Then, carefree, she left her husband behind in the kitchen, She left him on his lonesome and headed down the hall to the stairs.
She had already decided against washing, wanting the scent of Bob to linger over her for as long as possible. She sprang up the stairs, taking them two at a time with energy and drive.
Entering their bedroom, she pulled a pair of long pyjama bottoms from the bottom drawer and a large black t-shirt from the middle. Swinging open the en-suite door to their bedroom, she pulled off her jeans as soon as she stepped through. Her pants were next; she felt their weight from the dampness as they rested on her foot. She flipped them with a small kick against the tiled wall and watched as they landed on the floor.
She was as content as she could be, considering she was not in the arms of her older neighbour. But he had said that they would be together, and he did seem to have a plan. Not only that, it was a plan he seemed to enjoy the thought of; so she too, in turn, would also enjoy it. Or at the very least, she would play the game for him and get her reward of being the perfect partner for Bob.
Tying the cords of the pyjama bottoms firmly around her small waist, she knew they would be too warm through the night; but they offered the maximum protection from unwanted skin contact from the man she no longer loved in her bed.
It pleased her. She was acting appropriately as to how Bob had instructed. She thought of him again as she slipped free of her top, feeling the air on her uncovered skin. With the door wide open, her hands began to slide over her sides and around her flat stomach. They moved towards her exposed breasts and she was slightly surprised how hard her nipples were. Her fingers passed over the top as her nipples moved, then flicked back freely upon release. Her eyes were closed but she could clearly see the image of Bob in front of her, sitting in his big seat; she continued to explore her body.
"That's some view."
She snapped out of it, realising her husband had joined her in the bedroom and was looking directly at her.
"Jesus!" She reached and grabbed the t-shirt, pulling it to her chest. She had honestly no idea how long he had been there. "You gave me a heart-attack!"
He smiled at her. "I'm just saying, the view is good from here."
She offered a half-hearted smile, remembering Bob had a plan and she needed to be on her best behaviour, as she pulled the large t-shirt over her head.
"Aw, show's over?" he said as he approached her.
She cursed herself for encouraging his attentions with her display. It would have been easier to tell him she was picturing Old Bob, and longing for his veined hands to caress her firm womanly body.
"Oh, behave." She intercepted his advances and kissed him again on the lips, her protruding tongue gently brushing his lips before she engulfed them with her own lips. She intentionally left her saliva on him, again.
She stepped past him and to the bed, jumping under the covers.
She saw him using the back of his hand to wipe his lips, confusion etched across his face and a semen trace on his lips.
She curled onto her side and tried to slow her too-fast beating heart. She felt excitement similar to when she was a girl on Christmas Eve, waiting for her presents. Images of herself dressed in a sexy little Mrs. Claus costume, red stockings and all, and surprising Bob dressed as a Santa Claus, crossed her mind. She resisted the urge to reach between her legs, for it might give Ken more ideas.
'God, was I always this horny?' she asked herself, but she knew the answer; somehow Bob had released the woman in her that she never knew existed. His wife must have been content.
Ken joined her in bed, an alien feeling. Though they had shared a bed for six years as a married couple, things had changed; lost was her love for her handsome, successful husband. Warm affectionate feelings had been replaced with resentment and annoyance; she blamed Ken for stopping her from having a new life with Bob.
His strong arm wrapped around her, she noticed his scent was different. She allowed herself to turn over and kiss him. Moving back from him, she realised the scent wasn't different; it was the same old cologne she would buy him every year, but she disliked it now. She wondered what it was that Bob had worn. She wished she had bought Ken some; then, she could have closed her eyes and imagined he was Bob.
Little sleep found her as she imagined role play in future life scenarios with Bob.
The next thing she knew, she felt a kiss on her forehead.
"Morning," Ken said.
She opened her eyes - then blinked.
"Morning," she said, noticing he was ready for work. "What time is it? Am I late?"
"You have plenty of time; I'll see you tonight after work, and we can talk more."
"Sure."
He moved to kiss her, but she manoeuvred her cheek to receive his lips.
As soon as the door was closed, she was out of bed and showering. She checked her clothes, but nothing suited what Bob would like. She realized that she would need to shop for a full new style, in keeping with Bob's taste; she didn't want to lose him now she had him on her hook.
She picked out a summer dress and sat down at the kitchen table. She logged into her work's email system and made an excuse about being sick; her boss immediately sent a reply looking for more information as to the reason for her absence. Misha ignored it and closed the laptop over for closure, she knew then that part of her life was over.