Greg awoke to utter silence. A car roared past, casting a moving shadow across the bedroom window. Greg squints and checks the clock. 7pm. He had slept nearly 2 hours. Swinging his legs from the bed, Greg stretches and makes his way out to the living room. It is dark and he awkwardly fumbles for the light fixtures, shuffling slightly, and sweeping the wall with one hand. He is not yet familiar enough with Rebecca's house to know where all the switches are.
    At last, he illuminates the living room. No one is here. It is so quiet that the crickets outside seem deafeningly loud.
    "Rebecca?" he calls out. His voice carries in the expanse of the house. Greg suddenly realizes what Rebecca was talking about when describing her sense of remoteness when all by her lonesome in the home. It's unsettling, like a dream where you show up for class and everyone is gone.
    He snags a soda from the fridge and snaps on the TV. Cranking the volume loudly, he hopes to detract from that feeling of seclusiveness. No giggling baby, no sexy woman to dote on him. He was having Rebecca withdrawal. Dammit, he was off work, why wasn't she here now? He missed her. Taking out his phone, he calls her. It goes straight to voicemail. He sighs. No telling how long she will be, if he doesn't know where she went to.
    Just then, her car pulled in. Greg eagerly rushes to the door, relieved he doesn't have to go much longer without her company. She opens the rear car door and begins lugging grocery bags. Greg walks outside, still in his socks and helps her.
    "May I help you, ma'am?" Greg asks cheerfully. She absently hands him the two bags and hangs a gallon of milk off his thumb. Greg turns and heads back to the house.
    "Greg!!" she calls after, "put your shoes on!! you're gonna track dirt all over the house!!"
    Greg rolls his eyes, but meets her request. After depositing the bags on the table, Greg slips into his shoes and finishes caring in the last of the groceries. He also helps put all the food away, as Rebecca carries Julie inside.
    As has become customary, Julie sees Greg and harshly motions to him until Greg holds her. This is advantageous because it frees up Rebecca to cook. She flips on the stove-top exhaust fan and begins taking out several items that Greg has already put away.
    "I didn't tell you to put those away," Rebecca says kinda rudely, "I'm gonna need most of this stuff while I'm whipping up dinner."
    "I'm sorry, honey," Greg says.
    "It's fine. I've just got a shit ton of stuff to do for the party." she replies.
    "So, what time is everyone meeting up here?" Greg asks, opening a bag of baby carrots and dip and helping himself.
    "Well, Ben called me on my phone earlier," Rebecca says, as she lifts a metal cooking pan from the under-counter cabinet.
    "Cool. I gave him your number, I hope that's okay," Greg says, as he feeds Julie a tiny carrot. The child munches happily.
    "That's fine. I really wanted to meet Ben anyway. I'd like to talk to all the people you work with."
    Greg showered and changed into a new pair of clothes Rebecca had picked out for him. Greg read the price tag and couldn't believe it. She had spent $100 just on a pair of dress pants and a fancy orange designer shirt. Still, Greg had to admit Rebecca had exceptional taste in clothes. there were darker orange stripes which ran vertically along the button-down shirt, which seemed to distract from his waist, and made his seem taller. At first he thought he looked like a gargantuan pumpkin. But as he got used to the view, even he had to admit the garments were flattering to his unflattering physique.
    He passes her bedroom door and she is changing. She doesn't even bother to close the door. He stands there watching her slip out of her undergarments. She turns, completely nude and sees him. Her eyes seem to fuck his own, glaring and narrowing with interest. She sits on the edge of the bed, and leans over to take off her socks. It is another tantalizing show. her legs were spread just enough so he could see her meat curtain, with that faint streak of hair lining the top. She walks over to her panty drawer and jerks on the drawer.
    "Can I make a request?" Greg asks, with a sudden dry throat. She cocks her head towards him, while keeping her body rigid, her buttocks facing him like a ripe pear.
    "Please wear those smiley face panties tonight?" Greg asks imploringly.
    "Maybe" Rebecca says over her shoulder. With a fluid turn, Rebecca rotates her body towards him. She jumps up onto the chest of drawers, so her ass is resting on the edge. She spreads her vagina with two fingers, like an inverted peace sign, revealing her gaping hole.
    "You want some more of this?" she asks huskily. Greg definitely wanted a piece between that peace. Greg is instantly hard. He walks toward her as if he were a sleepwalker. She puts an arm out, impeding his progress with hand to his chest.
    "It'll have to wait," she reveals, "After the party. Then we can get down."
    "You drive me fucking crazy," Greg says in a lustful voice, "I wanna screw you like a whore."
    "You'll get your chance," Rebecca assures, hopping down from the furniture and turning to resume her panty hunting.
    She began cooking up a storm. Greg nursed a beer and watched TV. Every now and then he would throw out a half-hearted offer to help, but she always denied his assistance. Greg distracted Julie and that was help enough, to keep the child out of Rebecca's hair. Rebecca was making lobster lasagna. Unbeknownst to Greg, Rebecca had enrolled in a cooking class for the past 2 weeks. She had already perfected her recipe, she explained excitedly. She spoon fed him a morsel of lobster and it was deliciously sweet and tender. She planned to mince up a bit of crab to go along with it, and Greg's stomach was already rumbling. To stem the tide of his hunger, Greg munched on crackers and cheese on a party platter. Julie was now able to eat the meat without fear of choking, as long as Greg was careful.
    Ben and Michelle arrived about 30 minutes before the meal was set to finish cooking. Ben brought a bottle of pinot noir wine, which they uncorked to allow it to breathe for awhile. Ben wore a decadent blue silk shirt, and a darker marine pair of dress pants. Michelle complimented him well with a navy blue cocktail dress that showed a healthy slit of thigh when she sat down. her dark brown hair looks recently cut, and foxy short.
    Not to be outdone, Rebecca is attired in a backless evening gown, but without any jewelry, to casual it up a bit. The color shifts from white to grey from the hem of her skirt, to the spaghetti straps that loop over her shoulders. Greg studies her back and sees the dazzle of yellow that is the Joe Boxer waistband of her underwear. It winks out at him from just above the rear of the dress.
    This was the royal court. Ben might be a bishop, or rook, ally to Greg's plans. Greg supposed that made him king. But he really felt like a  lowly peasant mooching off a queen. The most powerful piece, allowing movement anywhere. It was Rebecca. Greg wanted to match the expectations she had in him. But for now, she was the one who paid his meals, and kept his provisions supplied. In his eyes, it was all about her, but it was all for Greg in hers.

LINK TO PART 82: http://www.ebaumsworld.com/blogs/view/82624756/