Okay. Since the kids stayed with their dad last night and I knew Steve and I would have to leave early for the Illini game this morning, we decided he'd sleep over at my house instead of vice-versa. All well and good. I went to bed before eleven, he got in about 12:30, and we had a Magical Night of Passion. (Notice the caps.)
Being accustomed as I am to waking early, my eyes popped open at about 7:30. Since I was still warm and sleepy and half-drugged from the multiple O's of the night before, I decided an early-morning quickie would be a perfect way to start the day (and Steve heartily agreed.) So, as we are getting down to business- LOUD business- he suddenly stops and whispers, "I hear foot steps!"
Talk about an abrupt jolt back to reality! Just as I whipped my nightgown over my head, I hear the unmistakable sound of JJ and JE chatting in the dining room. I poked my head out the half-open bedroom door (as Steve dived under the covers!) and asked them if they needed any help.
"Nope, we just got JE's soccer shorts" JJ replied and he and his little brother headed out the back door. I kissed them both, waved to JA and baby G (and their surly dad,) and breathed a sigh of relief as they backed out the drive.
Now: here are the obvious questions. How long had they been in the house before we heard them? Did they hear the bed banging against the wall or me moaning, "Fuck me!"??? Did they see anything? Did they even realize Steve was with me? Steve doesn't stay over when the kids are home- it's just not kosher with me- so this potential new discovery does not set well with me, and I certainly don't need them going to their dad with said info (not that he doesn't already know...) Did they look in the garage window and see Steve's car?
Oh well, what's done is done.
I think I need a chain lock.
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