Yep, being around his immigrant neighbor felt like it should have been a minefield, but Ed was confident in navigating it. As trite as it sounded, no woman really existed for him other than Michelle. His gorgeous bride. His soulmate.
“Misha, Dom has a question about the recipe you insisted on.” Ed got a quizzical look on his face at the nickname the woman so casually used. He’d never heard it before. Wow, they really are friends. It was a wonder; Michelle was many things, but gregarious was not one of them. She was so driven, she didn’t ever have time for a large circle of friends. Her days, until the recent, forcible easing of her foot on the gas pedal, had largely been filled by work and Ed himself. This new-formed relationship was… nice. He was glad that these two were close. He just hoped that he and the man of the house, Dominik, could get along like Michelle so obviously wanted.
At the statement, Michelle rolled her eyes dramatically. “Thanks, Kat. I swear, I’ve never met a man so confident, but so meticulous. Even for a professional chef, he goes above and beyond to make sure every single detail is just right.”
The criticism was said with a fond smile, so Katja just nodded. “Proper steps lead to perfect outcomes, correct? Nothing to complain about.”
Giving Ed a squeeze on the thigh, Michelle got to her feet. “Absolutely true. In any case, it’s also the perfect time for you two to get to know each other.” Without brooking any protest, she gently took Katja by the upper arms and maneuvered her over to the couch, seating the nonplussed woman a few feet from her husband. “I shouldn’t be too long, but you’re in good hands.” She grinned. “Both of you.”
With Michelle exiting like a whirlwind, Ed didn’t have a chance to get a word in, and now he was back to shifting awkwardly on the couch, struggling to come up with a single thing to say. Katja, oddly, was in the same boat. The woman seemed so sophisticated and elegant, he’d have assumed that she was a conversational master, but she just sat there for a full minute, nervously playing with the cuff of her form-fitting cream blouse, shooting him an occasional glance, then looking away in a complete one-eighty from what she’d been only seconds before.
Finally, he cleared his throat and gave her a smile. “I’m glad you’re friends with Michelle. You and Dominik have been the best neighbors we’ve had. I’m… uh, looking forward to getting to know your husband. And you, of course. Michelle thinks we can be friends too, and she’s smarter than…” He paused at the look on her face. “Sorry, did I say something wrong?”
Katja was staring at the floor as she shook her head. “No, Edward. You are fine.” She looked up at him then and, strangely, rubbed his arm with her hand before giving it a deep, lingering squeeze. He didn’t say anything–if it seemed overly familiar, well, different customs and whatnot–but he couldn’t help but note that she really, really looked like she wanted to do more. Like she was waiting for something, or trying to decide something. After a long moment, she dropped her hand and her eyes both. “Misha told me what you did for her birthday last month.”
That was quite the non-sequitur, but Ed rolled with it. “Oh, yeah. That.” He smiled. It had taken a month of running around like a chicken with its head cut off, but seeing her teary eyes at the vision of the custom portrait recreating the photo of them taking their vows was worth every minute spent haranguing the hapless artist incessantly. The things that Michelle had done to him that night were… memorable, and she still claimed that she owed him. “I guess I just like doing that kind of thing.” He chortled. “Believe me, she’s worth it.”
Katja’s face was stone as she rose to her feet. “Forgive me, Edward, but I must… to the restroom…”
Ed nodded. “Of course.” At the woman’s hasty exit, he was left fully alone then, and he didn’t like it. Weird ass birthday, I gotta say. It took all of two minutes before he decided that he could make better use of the time and rip the band-aid off. Time to meet mysterious Dominik Novak. All right, future best bud, here I come.
Laughing to himself, Ed made his way through the door the two women had used. He crossed the folksy dining room and approached the closed kitchen door, having to admit that he was digging the smells coming from beyond. Whatever recipe she’d found, Michelle was living up to her reputation as being a meticulous researcher, and he knew he was going to love what was on the other side. That little idea lasted right up until he had his palm on the swinging door and heard the long, guttural moan issue from inside.
He knew that moan. He’d been the genesis of that moan more times than he could count, and the fact that he wasn’t now made him feel like he’d jumped naked into the Arctic Ocean.
Unconsciously, Ed held his breath as he slowly, silently cracked the door open to see what was waiting for him, telling himself that he was wrong. That it just couldn’t be what he thought. Inside, to a backdrop of steaming cookware and scattered foodstuff, Dominik Novak, his masculine attractiveness a succinct counterpoint to Katja’s pure femininity, was focused on his task, a look of confident determination painting his handsome, Slavic features.
The task in question moaned again.
“No… not yet…” Michelle had her back up against the shining stainless-steel of the huge refrigerator, actively being pressed there by Dominik’s tall frame. The long curve of her breast under that scandalous sweater was obscured by the man’s hand, with the fabric taking the shape of the fingers also beneath it that were massaging the flesh he’d been given access to so freely. “It’s… oh Jesus… it’s not…”
Whatever denial she was trying to make, she wasn’t trying all that hard, and Dominik thoroughly ignored it in any case. His lips were on Michelle’s neck, trailing kisses across her sensitive skin in a way that she loved, and his free hand was hooked under her one of her thighs, pulling it so that her stocking-clad leg curled around his waist while driving her skirt up above her mouth-watering ass. She ground herself down into him with a groan when he pressed his pelvis forward hard. “Dom… oh fuck…” She bit her lip and looked at him. “Okay, maybe just… just a little…”
Like he was watching a horror movie, Ed saw his wife reach down and unzip Dominik’s fly, fishing out his cock in a smoothly-practiced move, and, without preamble, position it while pushing her panties to the side, ready to go. The man took it from there and slid himself in, eliciting a long, satisfied inrush of breath from her as she lowered herself down to meet him, pressing her face to his neck, her black hair contrasting starkly with his blonde, nearly-white mop.
They undulated together for a couple seconds, rutting away with a fevered need, but it was when Michelle looked into her lover’s face, lush lips parted for a kiss, that Ed finally threw off his horrified, disbelieving catatonia and kicked the door all the way open with a reverberating crash.