She didn’t get home until about 12:30. Our garage is a two car under, which means that when I look out the f****y room I look down into our driveway... When my wife got home, I heard the car pull up and the flood lights came on. It wasn’t Sheila driving but Jeff, the husband of Lisa who was hosting the party. They sat in the driveway for a several minutes, apparently talking. I then watched as my wife leaned back and spread her legs, pulling her dress up to the top of her thighs, her panties. Grinning like the vixen she was, she gathered the hem of her long dress and slowly peeled it away from her body, revealing all of that creamy skin peppered with caramel freckles. Her dress now sat heaped on the floor and she smiled devilishly at me as she climbed onto the couch on her knees, her back facing me, waiting. What a little Nymph! So there she was, thighs set apart, hands braced on the back of the couch, staring back at me giggling while she waited. I was transfixed, frozen. I stood. More

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