Lying face down on the beach towel, Linda rested her head on her crossed arms, under the blazing sun. The black sand was almost scorching around her. She didn’t go into the cool water only because she’d have to walk at least ten meters across the hot beach. Running would have been bearable, but she wasn’t going to run. She was over forty-five and wouldn’t act like a teenager.
She dug the sunscreen out of her bag.
“Leave it, I’ll do it,” her husband swiftly took it from her hands.
Linda gritted her teeth. She knew what was coming and was already dreading it.
Peter slowly poured the white, sticky lotion from high up onto her already sunburned back. Disgust shook her from head to toe. Peter sensually, thoroughly spread the lotion across her heated body. Linda buried her face into the towel. She couldn’t stand it when her husband smeared sunscreen on her. In fact, she didn’t like Peter touching her much at all, something she barely allowed under normal circumstances. More accurately, she slipped away from his hands whenever he tried to get too touchy. At least that’s how Linda experienced his advances.
“Mmm,” Peter purred.
Linda flinched. If only he didn’t groan!
She was relieved when her entire back was finally covered in sunscreen. Peter could put that damned bottle back in the bag and leave her alone. But her husband wasn’t ready to stop pampering her. At home, he couldn’t touch her as much as he wanted, but here she wouldn’t dare shake him off. So, he moved on to her bikini-clad bottom. Linda was filled with anger.
She lifted her head to scold Peter but noticed a woman nearby watching them. And not just any kind of look—this woman clearly wished she were in Linda’s place.
“Jealous, aren’t you?” she thought.
Linda propped herself up on her elbows. Smiling as if she were enjoying it, she glanced back at her husband, then looked directly into the eyes of the woman staring at them.
Women still checked Peter out. Of course, they didn’t know that the good-looking man was a lazy pig, always whining about how his athletic career had ended too soon. So what? Instead of whining, he could change a lightbulb, fix the faucet, or finally get the garden sprinkler system up and running. But no, he’d rather watch sports on TV and criticize everyone. Because he used to do it so much better. Yeah, sure.
Linda cautiously glanced at the woman again. She was tired of the act and wanted to finally tell Peter off. But the onlooker was clearly enjoying the show.
Peter couldn’t have been happier. His hands wandered lower, massaging her thighs with the sticky sunscreen. Linda forced a smile, gritting her teeth.
“Just get out of here already! Go swim or something!” She hoped the woman could sense her thoughts. But the woman just cheerfully swung her legs back and forth, watching Peter’s attentions with a conspiratorial grin.
The situation got even worse when Peter noticed his enthusiastic audience. He shifted a bit to give his admirer a better view of how he, Peter, handled anyone who ended up in his hands. The odds that the sunbathing woman a few meters away would vie for the role of a willing bedmate weren’t high, but you never know.
“How much simpler it would’ve been to put on the sunscreen before we left and leave that stuff at home!”