Well it's been way too long since we last posted, but it's still all good with me and the mrs; except that we've been getting our B-Hinnies handed to us by the MAN.
We've moved...We've changed jobs like 2 times each...and that's only been the last couple of weeks. We have lifted and carried boxes from one box spot to another box spot. We had temp jobs, and, as so often happens, the temp jobs have gone POOF! And now we have a big O home and a whole lot of time on our hands now.
What's a Watchful-Hubby and his Playful-Wifey to do...?...
Location: National Department Store
SubLocation: Lawn Center
Reason: We needed a lawn mower
Conflict: No one works in the lawn center apparently
Resolution: Fuck! I guess I WILL GO look for a store employee!
Hotwife/Cuckold Report: So, I get pissy when no one will come to my consumer aid, and without waiting for my beloved wifey, I storm off like a broke ass diva needing a snickers. I weave quickly through the congested aisles in a desperate hope of just finding some old man to ring up a lawn mower so I can just go home! Fuck i just wanted to go home!
Well, in my haste to find help, I ended up at the register by myself. I got in line like a little bitch, and looking around for my wifey, I noticed that she wasn't behind me like a good wife. Instead she was talking to some 22 year old kid who looked like he had been lifting weights for 21 of his years on Earth. This kid was huge. WTF does Sears need a monster like this working on a Monday evening for?
Now I am built like one of those Toddlers and Tiaras kids, so I guess I wasn't too surprised that the wife went for help from this fine example of minimum wage and steriods. I walked back to where the wifey and the machine were talking and the transaction quickly went down...
Speaking of down...Apparently, while I was paying the young man for my new saturday chore, my wifey was going down on the beefcake with her eyes.
Later, when I'm looking at the open lawn mower box, in my front room, like it was a car accident, the wifey asks me, "I don't know if you noticed...but the clerk had a huge bulge in his pants. What kind of underwear do you think makes his stuff look like that?"
OK, I explain to the wifey, for like the 17th time, that I never look at guys' junk, but I was pleasantly surprised when she went on to explain her observation that the young clerk was wearing tight flat front pants and well there was a "perky" bulge in his pants. Wifey must have thought a little about this dude's johnson while I was paying because she reasoned that he must not have been wearing boxers because his junk would just be hanging down, so like a kinky Sherlock Holmes, Wifey concluded that he must have been wearing tighty-whiteys.
I love that she noticed his lunchbox, and I am always encouraging her to act on her sexual curiousities; even when it's just using her penis imagination in line at a department store.
