I stood there at the living room window watching Ralph guide our crappy little snapper push mower back and forth around the front yard. His sweat-soaked shirt clung to his barrel-shaped chest and firm, round belly like saran wrap. He occasionally stopped to pull off his ball cap, wipe his brow, then return to his systematic routine of mowing the lawn.

Inside, I ran the vacuum cleaner under the coffee table, into the corner between the love seat and the china cabinet, and then clicked off its power switch with the tap of my foot. I sighed to myself as I thought of how boring our routine had become. This is how it was every weekend. He mowed the lawn, and I cleaned the house.

And that is exactly how it had been since we got our first place together, nearly two decades ago. We were both well into our forties now, and I often missed that there was very little mystery left in our relationship. I looked at him back out the window. Sure, he’d put on a few pounds and lost a little hair, but I was still every bit as attracted to him as I was when I first saw him back in college.

I rolled the vacuum back around the corner and tucked it into its normal resting spot in the hallway linen closet. I heard the last few sputters of the mower’s motor spin to a stop. I knew he had finished the front and now he would wheel it around to the backyard.

Ralph had never really wanted to move to the suburbs. He wanted to stay in the city and keep living the bohemian lifestyle. But he relented for my sake, since I’d grown up in a rural area and longed to have some space and green grass around me. Funny that he ended being the one to mow the lawn.

But, he was the top in our relationship, and I guess a woman’s place in the house, right?!

Looking out the sliding glass door at the back of the house, I watched Ralph wheel the mower through the fence, then jerk the pull chain a few times to get it started. In our simple little life, we’d just gotten so used to everything. Here, watching his sweaty arms and back strain as he jerked that chain to get the mower started really excited me. I reached down into my shorts and curled my fingers around my cock. I felt it thicken and warm at my touch.

Our sex life had slowed a lot recently. Ralph had become really stressed out since his promotion at work and I didn’t press the issue. I had taken to handling my own needs more often than we worked things out together. I thought about stroking myself right then and there, as I watched him push the mower about the back yard.

But then I decided to hell with that. For all intents and purposes that was my husband out there. And if I wanted his dick in my ass, then I goddamned well deserved to have it!

I tugged my t-shirt off over my head and tossed it to the dining room floor. I then slid my shorts and boxers down to my ankles, and kicked them off over my flip-flops. Nude, I slid open the glass doors and stepped out on the patio.

At first, Ralph didn’t even notice me. I just stood there with