"Dad! You really came!" Sammy called as she raced up the stairs of the mostly-emptied bleachers to where Carl and Annie had been waiting.
Carl stood up just in time to receive his daughter's flying tackle. "I said I would," he said, managing to hold her slightly off the ground while she clung uncomfortably to his neck. "Gotta cheer my little girl on."
His daughter buried her face into his shoulder, just like she'd done when she was a little girl trying to stay close to him on the occasions he worked from home. "Thanks, Dad," she said, quietly. "I always play better when you're here."
He rubbed her back, now covered by a sweatshirt after she'd gone to the locker room after the game, continuing to tense his neck and core muscles despite the strain of having a six-foot-two person hanging off of him. Yeah, all that time at the gym isn't wasted if I get to keep enjoying this.
"You played great, Sammy," Annie said, coming in from the side.
His daughter finally released him, then stood, looking up at him with an expectant smile.
"Good job, Sammy," Carl said, reaching up to ruffle her hair.
"Thanks," Sammy said as she brushed her hair away from her eyes, her smile widening.
"Also, the NBA called during your game, but I told 'em you had to finish high school first."
"Dad."
"Okay, I called them during the game, but they said you were too good and you'd ruin the integrity of the—"
"Dad!"
"Alright, alright, you can play," he said, throwing his hands into the air. "But I want tickets to all your—"
"DAD!"
Carl grinned.
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"Almost didn't notice, but I really like your haircut," Carl said as he held the door for his wife.
Annie made a low-effort attempt at a feigned swoon. "Such a gentleman! First he holds the door, then he notices the quarter of an inch I got taken off my hair to even it out—almost like he checked my shared calendar…"
Carl snorted once he'd let go of the door, and his wife's denim-clad hips checked his leg.
She grasped both of his hands in hers and stopped for a moment, standing on her tip toes as he drew up against her. She looked up at him. "Carl, I think if you keep being so good, I might not be able to control myself much longer," she said in the voice he knew that she knew turned him on.
"Oh?" Carl said, starting to feel the mood. Still no idea what she's planning, but I'm liking it so far.
She spun around, pulling his left arm around her sweater-covered shoulders as they walked towards the parking lot outside the gymnasium, having stayed later than most to retrieve their athletic daughter who'd seemed content to chat with her friends at length after the game rather than rush to the door.
"I've been thinking about it a lot this past week," Annie said, pressing her modest chest against his side, also in the way he knew that she knew turned him on. "And since it just so happens that the girls are both out of the house tonight, I think maybe it's time I finally told you."
Told me what? Carl frowned. "Why are the girls both gone tonight?" he asked, knowing that she wouldn't answer the other question yet.
"Coincidence, I guess," Annie said in an airy voice.
"Uh-huh."
They walked through the parking lot, Annie subtly leading them with her hand around his waist until they reached her car, then she pulled away.
Carl took her in at that moment under the bright lights of the parking lot. Her blonde hair was straight now, as it had tended to be a little over half the time ever since that day when she'd come back to him over two decades prior, because she knew he liked straight hair. Her blue eyes were lined with wrinkles here and there, but he still felt that he could stare into them for at least a few minutes on any given day before one of the girls interrupted and needed to be driven somewhere. Her face was still pretty—gorgeous, even—with the addition of a few lines that had begun to creep in over the past decade. Her lips were still full and very kissable, even if the length of time they'd spent together sometimes meant that those kisses were from routine and not passion.
She no longer dressed to be sexy and enticing as she had when she was younger. No, that wasn't appropriate for a high school teacher or a mother. But she certainly could if she chose to. Like Carl, she found time to exercise regularly—more regularly than him, even—and her figure was, if anything, more attractive to him now that it had been. She'd added weekly yoga sessions with the intent of reducing stress and improving her flexibility, and she'd ended up liking them enough that she'd taught a few classes for the local adult education program a couple years back. It also had the side benefit of gaining her a number of new friends which made her enjoy it even more.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
She was no longer in her twenties, true, but she was still very much the same girl he'd given up so much for so many years ago. Older—yes, wiser—certainly, funnier—perhaps not, since she still couldn't appreciate his dad jokes, but she hadn't lied when she'd told him she wouldn't let him feel like it was the wrong choice. For everything he'd given up to be with her, she'd—
"Carl, focus," Annie said, sounding slightly annoyed.
Carl blinked. "Huh?"
"I said when you get home, wait in the kitchen," his gorgeous wife said, letting out an exasperated sigh. A smile cracked through her annoyed expression, revealing her true feelings about being ogled by her incredibly handsome husband like—
"Stop!" she said, laughing. She pulled on his collar, and he bent down to kiss his five-foot-nine, incredibly intelligent and perceptive wife.
The kiss lasted much longer than Carl expected, and he was strongly wishing that they were already home when it ended.
"Remember, Carl," Annie said, giving him an enigmatic smile as she pulled open her door, "no need to rush back. I'm gonna need some time to prepare." When he opened his mouth to ask the obvious question, she immediately added, "I'll need about twenty minutes, I think."
"Can't wait," Carl said, trying to inconspicuously adjust his—
Annie's eyes were riveted to his crotch. She licked her lips, then seemed to catch herself and got into her car.
Alright, that's a little odd. Carl waved back to her, then started walking towards his own car, which he'd spotted on the way over to hers. I don't think I've ever seen her get wound up like that in public. Or really in private, either. So it's definitely something sex-related tonight, I guess. The last time she picked something like that it was the french maid outfit because she claimed she remembered me having something with it in my browser history like, twenty years ago. I don't even remember it, but that was a hell of a night.
He got into his car and buckled in. The electric motor was nearly silent as his car drove, reminding him strongly of another nearly-silent car he'd maybe driven earlier that day. He settled in and tried to clear his mind.
Really hope she's okay. If she's real.
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Carl sat in the kitchen of their house at his spot at the hexagonal table. He sipped from his glass of water, feeling very awake as his anticipation continued to build. Good thing I ate at the office. Wishing I'd brought that pulled pork from the fridge though.
A noise echoed from the direction of the stairs leading up to the second floor, followed by another, and then another.
The sound was unmistakable to Carl on that night after he'd spent—or perhaps not—a considerable amount of time maybe hearing it earlier that day.
It was the sound of heeled shoes striking a solid floor.
Carl set his water down and looked towards the doorway leading to the stairs. He felt his pulse begin to quicken.
Annie never did things by half measures.
She was much like him in that regard, and it was one of the many reasons he'd been so smitten with her. When she'd said she would become a teacher to make kids great, she meant it. She'd won the state's teacher of the year award three times.
It was unheard of.
In a state with almost ninety thousand teachers—from high schools alone—she'd been recognized as being the best not just once or twice, but three times.
So, too, did she always do something to amaze him on the special night that they planned each month. It was something they'd begun in order to always have something to look forward to, a night which alternated monthly where one of them would devise and plan something out of the ordinary which they knew the other would enjoy to a significant degree.
In one of the times that Carl vividly remembered from years prior, his wife had shipped him off on a night flight for a surprise fishing trip in Alaska over a long weekend with his father at a place she knew he'd always wanted to go. She hadn't gone with him, but then, she'd also known after trying it that she wasn't particularly interested in fishing, and he wouldn't have enjoyed himself if she'd gone with him and pretended to have fun.
On another, equally-memorable occasion that he'd recently recalled, she—
"Carl," she called, using that same, sexy tone that still riled him up even after so many years. The sound of heels grew closer at a glacial pace, finally reaching the ground floor. "There's a secret I've been keeping from you," she continued.
Carl waited, his breathing growing slightly faster.
"I've been pretending for all these years," she said, her tone growing even more heated. "But I can't control myself anymore."
Annie stepped into the room, and Carl's mouth dropped open.
"You asked all those years ago," she said, strutting towards him.
His eyes bulged as he stared.
Annie ran a hand up into her long, purple hair, fingering one of the two the horns growing out of the sides of her forehead. She took another step, her black, heeled boots and dark, thigh high stockings contrasting against her pale skin. She licked her bright red, glossy lips and stretched her arms out, pulling the delicate, black, reverse half-cup bra she was wearing taut against her chest and exposing the lower halves of her breasts. Her other hand moved downwards over her flat, toned belly to the matching thong, which she teased while she remained standing just a few steps away.
She brought both hands together at her chest, running her fingers over the lacy sleeves she wore over her forearms that left her shoulders bared. "You were right, Carl," she said, staring at him with a hungry look. "I am a succubus."
Carl stared at the tail pointing out from behind her with its heart-shaped tip. His eyes moved up to hers—which were now pink—and he froze.
She twisted the slim, black, leather collar around her neck, bringing into view the leash attached to it. "I've tried to control myself, Carl," she said, pouting at him as she offered him the end of her leash. "But I need more. So just for tonight, I n—"
Carl pounced.