Cynthia was pulled out of her dream around six in the morning. Her husband stumbled out of bed and as usual that included a lot of noise. The quiet part was slipping out of bed, but being half asleep and dragging his 230 pounds to the bathroom, while he tried to gather his clothes without turning on the light, was the noisy part.

She pretended to be asleep when he stumbled to the bedroom door. Cynthia knew that Mark was trying to be quiet and she just played along, but if she was honest she had to admit that seeing his naked body, first thing in the morning, was not the best way to start the day.

She heard how he turned on the shower and she opened her eyes. She sighed. Another day in paradise, flashed through her mind. Mark was a good guy and once upon a time they were in love. It was the usual story—boy meets girl in high school and fall in love. After a few years of dating and getting to know each other, Cynthia figured that Mark wasn’t that bad. He had a good job at the district’s office of Citizen’s Bank, he treated her as a princess, he wasn’t interested in other woman, and at that time he was a hot looking guy. So when he proposed to her when she turned twenty-one she simply said, “Sure, why not.”

They had been married now for nineteen years and for the last few years she had felt that their marriage could really use some T.L.C. Sometimes she looked at her marriage as an old house—it still stands but you can see it is slowly falling apart. Paint slowly peels off, a few cracks here and there, some roof tiles are missing and weeds grow from under the deck that you simply let grow. Why would you bother?

After their eighteen-year-old son left the house to go to college, the decline seemed to have gone faster. She did notice, throughout her marriage, that Mark changed. From being an athletic type in his teens he changed to the massive person he is today. They both blamed it on his work. A desk job with quick fast food lunches, daily meetings with some more junk food and not enough time to exercise.

However, it was a little bit more complicated than that. Cynthia realized that Mark wasn’t her dream prince. As a young girl she might have thought she was in love, but it never changed to actually being in love. When she realized that, she already had a son and they had just bought this house in Washington Crossing. She talked about it to her friends but they all smiled her worries away.

“That’s life, hon.” “It is what it is.” “You need to grow up, Cin; you got a baby to take care off.”

So she sucked it up and tried to make it work. The fact that Mark slowly got bigger made it a bit easier. It made it more difficult for him to “consummate” their marriage, and that made it easier for Cynthia.

Mark came back to the bedroom and Cynthia closed her eyes again, pretending to be asleep. “See you soon, baby,” Mark whispered and his lips touched her hair. She heard him walk down the stairs into the kitchen. The noises told her that he was making some coffee (and he always made extra for her). In the meantime he would take his other stuff, open the curtains and let their dog out in the backyard.

After that, he would fill up his to-go cup, get in his car and drive to work. Cynthia sighed again, turned around and watched how the alarm clock switched from 6.49 to 6.50. She crawled out of bed, slipped into her bathrobe and stumbled down to the kitchen.

Automatically she grabbed the coffee pot, filled up her cup (that was already placed on the counter next to the creamer) and walked into the living room. She fell down on the sofa and switched on the television just in time to hear Sue Serio announcing that it would be another hot and humid day.

“We might be hitting the ninety mark today, so do you have your sun lotion ready Karen?” Karen commented on it, while Mike suggested he would be more than happy to rub the lotion on her back, before they moved on with their breaking news item on how a little dog survived a trip across I-95 when he fled from his owner’s car at a gas station.

“Whatever,” Cynthia mumbled, switching off the television and getting up to get herself a refill. Their kitchen was in the front of the house and Cynthia peeked outside the window. On her left she could see the Washington Crossing Inn, an old but beautiful restaurant with a huge garden. Once in a while they went there with friends to see a cover band playing songs from the time that they were happy.

She turned her head to the right and watched cars crawl over the small Washington Crossing Bridge. The bridge was so small that both cars had to pull in their mirrors to pass each other without scratching their cars. Cynthia hated to cross that bridge and every time she needed to cross the Delaware she would drive to Taylorsville, hop on I-95 and take the first exit after the river.

Their house was built between the bridge and the four way intersection on River Road, and was part of a small block of three houses. Two of the houses were empty—they had been for as long as she could remember—but since this is a historic site were George Washington crossed the Delaware on Christmas Eve to fight the Battle of Trenton, all buildings had to be saved.

She watched the cars crawl over the bridge when she saw a man walking on the pedestrian side of the bridge. He had a bike in his hand (no biking or horse riding allowed on the bridge) and seemed to be enjoying the walk. She smiled and shook her head. Who, in his right mind, is riding his bike on a day like this?

She kept on staring as the man came closer and closer. At the end of the bridge he jumped on his bike and started riding again. Coming closer, she noticed that he was around the same age as her and Mark. His hair was short and brown, with some grey coming through on the side. He stood on his pedals to create speed, allowing her to see his strong body. His legs were muscled and she figured it must have taken him thousands of miles to get them in that shape. His arms were not big, but she could see his biceps swell up when he grabbed the handlebars. The front of his white shirt was soaked from his sweat and stuck to his chest and flat belly. And he was handsome… God, he was so handsome.

He passed Cynthia’s house and must have seen her standing in front of the window. Casually he raised his hand to her and his lips formed, “Morning,” before he flashed by her house.

Cynthia couldn’t respond. All she saw was his nicely shaped bottom before he turned left on River Road, following the road to Taylorsville. Cynthia felt like she was hit by lightning. Her belly tickled and filled itself with butterflies. A blush crawled up her face and if the room hadn’t been spinning she might have felt how her nipples erected.

Slowly she came to her senses again and, after the first excitement of seeing this hot and sweaty stranger had ebbed away, she went back to her usual life. Every day had the same routine.

After her morning shower she would meet one of her friends for lunch and her daily doses of gossip. Then they would go to the mall to do some window shopping, sometimes they would catch a movie and on a bold day they would drive all the way to Parks Casino to waste some money on the slot machines.

By four she would be home again, clean the house a bit and around six she would start dinner. Mark usually came home around seven and they would have a quiet dinner together at the kitchen table. She would clean up while he took a shower and the rest of the evening they would watch television until Mark went to bed around eleven. You could say that Cynthia’s life was pretty boring.

She knew it, and for a long time, every little vein in her body was screaming for some more excitement. You’re forty… you’re not dead yet, buzzed through her mind, but she had no idea how to change her life. She thought about getting a divorce, but was scared to take the final step.

She would have to find a job, find a house, and how would her friends react? And her son? Some of her friends, who knew her dilemma, told her to get a hobby. “Pick up some classes at College.” “Join a club or something.” “Do something with your life.” Cynthia was at a point that she was totally numb inside… until this stranger raced by her window and activated all her senses again.

Throughout the day, images of this stranger went through her head. She saw his beautiful face, saw his strong body and she even thought she could smell his sweat. When she and Mark had dinner, and she compared Mark to this stranger, she knew that she was crossing a line that shouldn’t be crossed.

Mark was overweight and his body had become unappealing; the stranger was slim and sexy. Mark was getting bald, his face started to get some wrinkles and the bags under his eyes made him look tired; the stranger was handsome, his face seemed to sparkle and the only wrinkles she could see so fast were a few crow’s feet around his eyes that gave him a friendlier look. Cynthia knew she shouldn’t be doing this, but she couldn’t help it. The stranger was stuck in her mind and when she woke up the next morning she had dreamed about this man, and how he had made love to her—true, passionate love that seemed to last forever.

As soon as Mark stepped into his car to join the line of cars that were waiting to cross the Delaware, Cynthia jumped out of bed, took a shower and went back to the bedroom.

She opened her closet and wasn’t sure what to put on. Not my normal bathrobe; that thing is ugly. She went through her closet. Are you going to dress yourself? And then what, missy? Cynthia hushed the voice but had to admit that she had a point. What am I going to do? She thought about it and decided that watering the flowers on her porch was the best option. It was going to be a hot day again and at least she would be outside if he were to pass by her house. If he is riding his bike today, the voice smiled, but Cynthia knew that he would.

First she put on a red bra and a matching string, and then she put on a white, low cut, sleeveless shirt that was a little bit too tight, and watched herself in the mirror. The girls look alright, she smiled and squeezed her large B-cups together. Cynthia was happy with her breasts. The best things come in small packages, she smiled and slipped into her cut off, ruffled denim shorts. She accentuated her face with some delicate make-up, brushed her hair and went downstairs to attach the garden hose to the kitchen faucet.

So, you are really going through with this? the voice asked, but Cynthia already knew the answer. She couldn’t explain it. As soon as she had laid eyes on him, she knew she wanted him. As soon as she spotted him walking on the bridge, she knew where this was going to end. Yes, she smiled. I am going through with this… all the way to the end.

Did she feel guilty? Guilty that she was on the edge of cheating on Mark? Of course she did, but as soon as she thought about this stranger and his body, her guilt melted faster than snow would melt in this 98 degree heat. And besides that, she thought, it isn’t really cheating. It’s not like I am going to have an affair or something.

The voice inside burst out in laughter. Right, you’re planning on getting laid by this guy, planning on having sex with a complete stranger, and for some mysterious reason you don’t consider that to be cheating… Interesting. Cynthia silenced the voice, opened the faucet and walked outside.

By 7.45 she was outside, watering the flowers and staring down the bridge, waiting for the stranger on his bike. She spotted him halfway as he passed an elderly couple walking to the New Jersey side of the Delaware. Her heart skipped a few beats and she felt a strange tickling sensation in her belly. Oh, my god. She forced herself to keep on looking at her flowers but from the corner of her eyes she saw him hesitate just as he was about to jump on his bike.

For a few seconds he was balancing like an acrobat. One foot on a pedal and his other leg was already swinging upwards to make the jump over his seat while the bike rolled forward. Cynthia thought it looked like a beautiful dance. The stranger had a certain grace and seemed to be in control over every muscle in his body.

His leg swung back and he started walking again, Cynthia’s heart beat went sky-high and she got nervous. What am I going to say? Her eyes flashed from left to right, watching the stranger coming closer and closer.

“Good morning,” he said when he reached Cynthia. His voice sounded deep and warm.

“Oh, hi.” Cynthia pretended that she had no idea that he was right behind her. “Good morning,” and she turned her head towards him, giving him her best smile.

The stranger stopped, tilted his head a bit and smiled back. “Now that looks refreshing,” he said and nodded at the hose.

Cynthia laughed. “I bet it does. It looks like you could use some refreshing yourself.”

The stranger chuckled. “That obvious, huh?” and he wiped away some sweat from his face. His eyes lowered from her face to her shirt. Cynthia was glad that she had the clever idea to wear a shirt that was a little bit too tight and arched her back a bit, pointing her girls a bit forward. She thought that his smile grew bigger when his eyes lowered themselves further to her shorts, before they rested on her crotch.

She had to smile when his eyes flew back up again, and for a second he looked like a young boy who was caught doing something that he shouldn’t be doing. Now it was Cynthia’s turn to check him out. Her eyes flashed up and down and she tried to imprint every little detail she saw. His slim strong body, the contour of his face, his beautiful dark eyes, and for a split second she lowered her eyes to his crotch trying to imagine how he would look without clothes.

“Want some?” Cynthia asked and realized she just said something ambiguous. She smiled innocently, and turned the hose towards him.

“Oh, I always want some,” the stranger replied, and his smile got bigger. “How can I deny an offer made by a beautiful woman?”

Cynthia understood his reply but wasn’t sure what to do next. Should she reply normally? Or should she continue sending out hidden messages? And then what? Ask him if he would like to fuck you, that would do it, the voice smiled. Cynthia almost burst out in laughter; it sounded like a great continuation but she knew she would never say a thing like that.

“Well, thank you. Come closer then,” she smiled, “I can give you all you need.” And more, the voice added in her mind, while she raised the hose a bit. The stranger set his bike against the fence that separated them and stepped forward.

“Sounds perfect” he smiled and leaned over the fence. Cynthia brought the hose closer, squeezed the grip gently, and cold water began to flow out of the nozzle. She squeezed a bit harder till she had a nice flowing stream, then she turned the nozzle towards him.

The stranger opened his mouth a bit and Cynthia squirted water in his mouth. He swallowed some but couldn’t keep up with the stream, and water began to run down his face. He quickly raised his head “Ahhh, much better,” he winked while he slowly licked his lips. Cynthia’s heart stopped beating and she could see herself sucking that slow moving tongue inside her mouth, but she controlled herself. However, her vagina didn’t have that control and began to tickle while she slowly wetted herself.

“You still look hot,” Cynthia said. She knew that every word was important at this stage and wanted to make sure that this stranger knew what she was after.

The stranger chuckled. He damn well knew what she was doing. “If I didn’t have to go to work, I would have asked you to soak me.”

Cynthia grinned. She tilted her head and slowly raised the hose. “I guess there is nothing wrong with getting wet, even if you have to go to work,” and on the last word she squeezed the grip.

A huge jet blew out of the nozzle, and splashed on the stranger’s shirt. “Hey!” he screamed and tried to grab the hose, but Cynthia took a few steps back and kept squirting him.

With one jump he was over the fence. Cynthia saw it happen, she screamed and started to run to the backyard, still holding on to the hose and trying to squirt him. The stranger laughed out loud and ran after her. He was much faster and was able to grab her arm. He went for the hose himself and a short, innocent, playful fight started.

“No!” Cynthia giggled when the stranger managed to turn the nozzle on her, but she struggled back for the hose. The cold water splashed on both of them and within seconds they both were soaked. Cynthia knew she was trapped in the fenced garden, and couldn’t go anywhere. She slowly turned around, giving up the battle for the hose.

The stranger kept spraying her, but his eyes sparkled when he saw the result of his action. Cynthia’s hair stuck in wild, wet strings to her face. Her shirt was soaked and stuck to her body, shining through a glow of her skin, and her red bra. The stranger’s eyes were only looking at one thing: her hard nipples that poked through. He dropped the hose, and once again his eyes wandered over her body while Cynthia’s did the same with his.

Cynthia’s eyes got bigger when she noticed the bulge in his wet shorts and she nibbled the corner of her lip while a feeling of lust settled in her body and wetted her pussy. The stranger smiled and his eyes shifted from her breasts to her shorts.

Cynthia stopped breathing when she saw the bucking bulge in his shorts. She grabbed the bottom of her shirt and slowly pulled it up while she kept staring at his bucking crotch. “I think we are wet enough now,” she smiled and pulled her shirt over her head.

The stranger grinned and stepped forward. He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her closer. “It can never be too wet,” he whispered. Cynthia’s body shivered when his hands slowly moved to her ass.

They kneeled down in the grass and the stranger gently brushed his lips over hers, before he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. Slowly her fingers began to peel on the button of his shorts. “Oh, but you have no idea how wet I am,” she moaned and pushed her tongue back inside his mouth.

Their tongues mangled and wrestled each other, the beginning of a passionate kiss. Cynthia sucked gently on his tongue and that seemed to be a secret sign. He pushed Cynthia on the grass, crawled between her spread legs and continued their kiss.

The stranger raised himself and slowly opened her shorts. His hand touched her belly and he wiggled him inside her string. “Let’s find out then,” he moaned as he pushed a finger in Cynthia’s pussy…

(Edited by Clum)