Performances

After several long hours of yardwork, I was finally done. I picked up the glass of water, the ice having melted, and practically inhaled the scant contents. Using the garden hose, I filled the glass again, and almost literally did inhale the contents. Then I did it again, finally feeling satisfied.

I thought ahead to the following day, when my twin nieces would arrive to spend a week with me and my wife. With two seven-year-old girls in the house, there would be little time for Rebecca and I to have to ourselves, so I determined that for the rest of the day, I would devote all my time to her, even if that did mean washing the dishes and mopping the floors.

I entered the house at last, finding that she had definitely cleaned the kitchen and the living room while I was working outside. The cool air inside was a very welcome respite from having been in the sun for several long hours, and actually made me shiver slightly. But, to my surprise, I did not see nor hear my young wife.

Perhaps I should have called for her. But instead, I slowly roamed the house, trying to remain as quiet as possible to sneak up on her and surprise her, much like I used to do when we were seven-year-old kids in the old neighborhood. She was not downstairs, nor was she in the basement, and I began to wonder if she had decided to take a bath.

If that was the case, I planned to join her, for I certainly needed a bath... or at least a shower.

When I came to the top of the stairs, however, I knew that she was definitely not taking a bath.

From where I stood, I could see through the wide-open bedroom door. Rebecca was on her stomach upon the bed. As naked as the day she was born, a hand stuck out from underneath her to repeatedly plunge a bright-red dildo into her body as she humped her own wrist. Facing away from me, she had no idea that I was watching her, and from the soft sounds she was making, she likely would not even care that she was being watched.

Then I noticed it: the DV camera atop one of the dressers, pointed directly at her, positioned so that I would be in the background of the shot. Although we sometimes filmed ourselves as we made love, this was the first time – to my knowledge – that Rebecca had filmed herself without my knowledge, without my presence. While I certainly enjoyed looking up my wife's spread legs and watching continually impale herself with the dildo, I had a sense that this was supposed to be a surprise, that perhaps sometime while I was at work, she would upload this video to the computer and edit down into something meaningful and surprise me with it. I had to wonder just how many times she might have filmed herself in these compromising situations, and hoped that perhaps there would be a montage of her "best moments" soon to be coming my way.

I hesitated. I wanted to go to her, to lay beside her and touch her and kiss her as she pleasured herself, or perhaps take over control of the dildo or – even better – replace the dildo with a real phallus. Yet with each halting step I made toward the open bedroom door, I had a growing sense that I did not belong there, that I needed to leave her in peace and give her the privacy she apparently wanted.

Eschewing the shower, I turned around and slowly went back downstairs, my manhood quite hard from having seen her secret performance. When I heard her cry out, I regretted my decision, yet I knew that it was for the better.

*****

I had just stepped out of the car when Rebecca stepped out of the back door. "You saw!" she exclaimed, shock clearly written across her face.

"What are you talking about, hon?" I asked, grabbing my briefcase and closing and locking the car door. "I've been at work all day. What could I have possibly seen?"

"The day before the girls arrived," she said, waiting for me on the back porch, "when you were supposed to be doing yardwork. You saw me playing with my favorite dildo."

That finally jogged my memory.

"That was supposed to be a surprise for you for your upcoming birthday!"

That made me very thankful for my decision to leave her alone in the bedroom on that day. Fortunately, from Rebecca's body language, she was not upset that I had witnessed her self-love, just disappointed that my unexpected presence had ruined the surprise she had planned for me.

...for my birthday.

When I finally reached her, I set my briefcase down and took her into my arms, hugging her. "As much as I would have enjoyed to see your surprise," I told her, "I would much prefer to watch you in person."

That evening, I did watch her in person, and it was her most spirited performance I had ever witnessed.