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  Filling the Void

  Zenobia Renquist

  Missing her early morning quickie throws Naomie’s entire day off balance. How is a lustful woman in an open marriage supposed to function without sex? Simple. She invites the gardener to do some indoor lawn care. Afterward it’s off to “girl talk” with three of her best friends. The topic under discussion is cheesecake and who can make Naomie come first. But all of that simply fills the void until her husband gets home from work.

  That’s when the real fun begins.

  Inside Scoop: This scorching-hot erotica features exhibitionism, group sex, lesbian sex, straight sex and more kinks than you can keep track of.

  An Exotika® contemporary erotica story from Ellora’s Cave

  Filling the Void

  Zenobia Renquist

  Chapter One

  Morning—Lawn Service

  One word described women like Naomie best—exhibitionist. She loved showing off her body. Not flashing, nothing so crude. Though her naked morning workout in front of the windowed wall of her living room—floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall, large-paned glass—with the overhead lights illuminating every part of her said otherwise.

  This early no one was out to see her display, not even the sun. That didn’t bother her as much as her neighbors’ complaints had. When she and Dane had gotten the house seven months ago, Naomie used to sleep in, choosing to rise with the sun and take the morning slow before diving into her workout routine. A few visits from angry wives had stopped that.

  Naomie hadn’t wanted to cause unnecessary strife, which was why she had waited until after the kids were safely at school. She’d even offered to wear her exercise clothes—a sports bra and shorts. Okay, calling them shorts was being generous. It was a Lycra high-legged thong, which made it appear as though Naomie wore nothing at all when she had her back to the window. Most women wore them to the gym but those women usually wore yoga pants beneath to keep the T-back from riding up.

  It hadn’t been enough, hence the time change. Though all the complaining meant the women had been looking for her, probably waiting for her. They had always shown up on her doorstep right as she finished—perfect timing that denoted they might have been watching. True they might not have wanted to interrupt but getting riled up enough to complain should mean they didn’t care if they interrupted. In fact they should want to interrupt…unless, of course, the need to make her stop wasn’t as strong as their desires for her to keep going.

  It made sense. Naomie had caught a few of the wives staring at her the same way as their husbands. Sometimes at the same time. Knowing that assuaged her guilt. But for those genuinely annoyed at her display, she had opted to change her routine. Naomie was free to exercise nude the way she wanted and the neighborhood wives could congratulate themselves, thinking they’d made her stop. Since none of them would be up this early anyway, they would never find out otherwise.

  Naomie rolled her body over the ball beneath her so it pressed into her lower back. With her knees pointed toward the window, she moved her feet apart enough to stabilize herself, put her hands behind her neck and started doing crunches. The glint of metal from her neighbor’s house across the street caught her attention. She paused her movements, shifted her legs apart more and then continued.

  Her neighbor’s house was dark with the curtains drawn. A small part in the drapes, just enough for someone to look through, and the periodic shine of gold—like a lighthouse signaling the distance to the shore—let Naomie know Sam was up early again. He really should use his right hand or realize the wedding ring gave him away and try to hide a little better.

  Or maybe he wanted Naomie to know he was there so she would give him a show. And she would. She always played to her audience—opening her sculpted legs a little wider, stretching her lithe body a little farther and rolling her round hips in sensual circles that shifted the ball beneath her.

  If his wife caught him, Cathy would probably try to cave his head in with their son’s Little League bat. But then their four children ran her so ragged she was probably dead asleep and wouldn’t rise until her kids did in another two hours. Plenty of time for Sam to enjoy a morning jerk. So long as he was quiet and he got back to bed before his kids woke up, no one would be the wiser.

  A car passed, going slower than the posted twenty-five miles per hour. Naomie would guess fifteen, maybe even ten. John turned off his headlights before pulling into his driveway—the house to the left of Sam’s. He worked third shift and got home just before the rest of the neighborhood woke and started the day.

  John was another man who had taken to sneaking around in the early hours. He cut the engine and got out, though he didn’t close the door, and walked around to the back of the car so he could lean against the bumper. Coffee cup in one hand and the other resting on his crotch, he watched Naomie in the open without worry.

  His wife Lori was another woman whose children exhausted her. She had two toddlers—two and four—whose energy really could power the neighborhood if science could figure out a way to harness it. The woman had gotten used to her husband being out all night and into the morning because of his job. So long as John didn’t open the garage door, she wouldn’t know he was home yet. That gave him at least thirty minutes, possibly forty, to enjoy the view before his wife expected him home.

  Naomie rose from her ball, stretched her hands to the ceiling and gave John a wave. He toasted her with his cup. Yup, she knew he was there. He knew that she knew. Only Sam thought he was being sly. One day she would have to let on, in a way that wouldn’t tip off his wife, that she was aware he was watching too. But first the show must go on.

  She turned her back to the window and bent forward so her body created a ninety-degree angle with her arms extending past her head. Shifting her balance to her right leg, she lifted her left straight back. A five count later, she continued lifting her leg higher and with her left hand caught her knee so she could hold her leg for another five count…actually she held it for a ten count.

  She did the same with her right leg, extended counts for both positions, then lowered her leg and her body and until she was folded in half. She inched her feet apart across the plush carpet while keeping her inner thigh muscles tight so she could control her descent. She didn’t want to go too fast and spoil the men’s suspense.

  When she was low enough for her elbows to touch the floor, she leaned forward and rested her weight on her forearms. She pushed to her tiptoes, testing her balance and stabilizing, and then rolled her pelvis so her legs lifted into the air. Keeping to her slow pace, she brought her legs together so her toes pointed to the ceiling and then let them part into wide splits.

  Her pussy lips spread, allowing the air to feather over her slit. That cool kiss on her intimate flesh was the reason she preferred exercising naked. Clothing stifled and restricted. Her skin felt suffocated. All her life she had gone out of her way to wear as little clothing as possible—summer or winter, rain or shine. Her mother had learned to dress her in light silks if she wanted Naomie to stay clothed.

  And Naomie came by it honestly—her father tended toward nudism at every opportunity, as did his siblings and his parents. While they did it as a way to relax, Naomie reveled in the attention her barely there outfits got her. A true exhibitionist.

  Sure, a few of her more stuck-up neighbors might call her a slut or a whore but those words held the speaker’s anger and sexual frustration. Naomie guessed more sexual frustration than anything else. The world would be a happier place if everyone got laid—and laid well—more often.

  Naomie would be enjoying a morning quickie as soon as she finished her routine. Dane wouldn’t be awake for another two hours. Plenty of time to get in some good exercise and a soothing shower be
fore waking her man with a morning ride. Or maybe she would suck him off first. She never knew how she wanted it until she had Dane’s dick in front of her face.

  Some mornings demanded hard and fast, while others called for slow and savoring. And still others were for cuddling. Dane liked cuddling least of all—stereotypical man. Naomie didn’t do it often and only when she was in a playful mood. Dane’s hands would wander and she would put them back where they belonged. Each time she would let him tease her a little bit longer before stopping him. Eventually his patience would snap. That was when he rolled her over and had his way with her.

  Sometimes he would put her on her back and sometimes her stomach. Either way, Dane didn’t let her up until they were both covered in sweat and breathing hard. Just thinking about the last time Naomie had played her favorite bed game made her pussy twitch. The reaction caused her legs to wobble. She brought them down to the floor so she didn’t fall over.

  Back to the ball with her. If she was going to get herself excited, she needed to do it with a prop beneath her. The floor would be better but then her audience wouldn’t be able to see her and she wanted them to.

  She straightened and resisted the urge to stroke her clit. The neighbors didn’t get that kind of show. While she had no issue diddling herself where the world could see, all sexual pleasure was an after-exercise event. It was her little reward program for doing her exercises properly.

  And oh how she planned to reward herself later. Today was a cuddling day. Dane’s fingers roaming over her body, trying to get her to give in to the inevitable. Her holding out until neither could take it any longer. There would be sexy banter and laughter followed by moans and fucking so hard they would break another bed—warping the frame and concaving the mattress.

  The local mattress store knew them by name and had given them a preferred customer discount after the third replacement. The latest bed had lasted the longest but it was about time to get a new one. Naomie liked watching the movers work.

  Her pussy grew wet. She licked her lips and passed a hand over her left breast, tweaking her nipple and playing with her nipple ring. Oh how she loved watching the movers deliver a new bed. Always two of them. Tight jeans, thin white shirts with the company logo, hard muscles and both of them eager to help her test to make sure the bed was put together properly.

  Naomie bit her bottom lip as a thin line of moisture trailed down her inner left leg. She might have to cut this morning’s exercise short, skip her shower and forego the cuddling for a hard ride. This was why she never decided the morning’s activities ahead of time. By the time she got back to her bedroom she’d already changed her mind twenty times.

  Exercise first. No cutting it short. She took a calming breath, propped her right knee up on the exercise ball, made sure her left foot was stable and then pressed the ball to roll slowly beneath her so her inner thigh muscles stretched. The motion gaped her pussy. She couldn’t help the slight jut of her hips before rolling the ball back to start position.

  Another stretch. Naomie fisted her hands against her waist so she didn’t try to stuff her fingers—how many would be determined after the first two—into her slick channel and give Sam and John something worth watching.

  Two more stretches and she would switch legs. A large, hot hand cupped her sex and shifted side to side. Naomie let out a shuddering breath as she melted back against Dane’s strong chest and rolled her hips in sync with his movements.

  With his free hand, he palmed her left breast. The tips of his fingers nudged her taut nipple and shifted her ring as he kneaded, his big hand barely containing the ample mound. Dane burned hot. Though to hear him tell it, Naomie was just cold. His heat chased away the chill air and set her heart thundering. The soft kiss he placed on her shoulder had her tilting her head back and to the side so she could experience the press of his damp lips against hers.

  Dane dodged her mouth so he could flick the tip of her nose with his tongue. When she stuck out her bottom lip and made a pouting noise, he obliged her with a brief brush. Too brief. She wanted his tongue in her mouth, exploring and tangling with hers. He pulled back before she could go after what she wanted.

  “Morning, sugar. Getting hot for the neighbors, I see.” He dipped his middle right finger into her pussy and wiggled it quickly. Naomie arched her breasts forward at the same time she grabbed his upper thighs and ground against him so the unyielding bulge in his pants teased the top of her ass.

  This hadn’t been one of the choices but she was happy to add it. Dane hadn’t played with her while she exercised in so long. His wandering hands were one of the reasons the neighborhood wives had been so insistent about Naomie stopping her exercise routine, or at least moving it to where everyone couldn’t see.

  Naomie focused her gaze and found John still sitting on his car. The hand he’d had resting on his crotch was moving fast, up and down his erection. Sam was so close to his window, the tip of his dick smeared cum on the glass. They were getting a better show than usual.

  Dane pressed the pad of his thumb against her asshole while inserting another finger into her pussy. He made a scissoring motion inside her and Naomie squirmed with delight. She fumbled with the front of his pants, not needing much more than this to get ready.

  “So eager. Did showing off for the neighbors get you so horny? And here I thought you loved me just that much.”

  “Oh I do, Big D. You know I love you.”

  He bumped his arousal, which she lacked the concentration to free from its zippered confines, against her hands. “Are you talking to me or my dick?”

  She grasped his hard length through his pants and a wicked smile curved her lips. “I love you too, Dane.”

  He growled as he switched to pumping his fingers fast, massaged her breast harder and sucked at her neck right below her ear. Naomie let out a loud cry of pleasure. Strength left her legs and she had to grip his pants to keep from falling. The position of the exercise ball combined with the heat and sweat held her knee in place, leaving her open to Dane’s enticements. Not that she wanted to put her leg down and block him, but she couldn’t change position.

  She wanted the ball beneath her belly while Dane buried his dick inside her aching pussy from behind. That had been the ball’s main purpose for the first few weeks after she bought it—a prop for their fucking.

  A long, exasperated, groaning sigh left Dane. That wasn’t the sound Naomie wanted to hear. He should be panting hard and getting excited like she was. Instead he backed up a step and dropped his hand from her breast.

  She looked over her shoulder at him, meeting his gray-eyed gaze. “Big D?”

  “Sorry, sugar. As much as I want to play with you, I can’t.” He drew his fingers out of her slowly, as though savoring the sensation for as long as he could. Once free, he raised his hand to his face and inhaled loudly, taking in her scent.

  Finally able to get her leg down, Naomie nudged the ball aside and faced her husband with her hands on her hips. “Why can’t you?”

  “Work. I’m up early because of a project that needs doing.” Before she could say anything, he grinned at her and flicked her nipple ring, making the dangling jewel jingle. “And I don’t mean you.”

  “You didn’t say anything last night.”

  “Because I knew you wouldn’t let me get any sleep if I had.”

  “Damn right. You owe me sex and lots of it, especially after what you just did.”

  “Have to take a rain check.”

  She eyed his bulge straining for freedom. Dane couldn’t be comfortable. His groping had gotten both of them primed and ready. She asked in a hopeful voice, “Not even a quick quickie? I’m sure the neighbors wouldn’t mind.”

  “Nope. No time.”

  She passed her tongue over her upper lip. Dane watched her mouth with open lust. That amused her. She was naked and her pussy was so wet the insides of her thighs were almost soaked but her mouth had all his attention. Her tone turned husky when she asked, “A quick b
low?” She pursed her lips in a kissing motion.

  Dane swallowed loud but shook his head. “I wish, sugar. I really do. I’m cutting it close as it is but I couldn’t pass up your open invitation.” He licked the fingers he’d had inside her. “This much will have to sustain me until I get back.”

  “So you’re coming home early, right?”

  “Nope. Regular time.”

  “Dane.”

  “Naomie, don’t start. You know I don’t want to be at work when I could be home fucking you. But work is what I’ve got to do. No amount of pouting or seduction will change that. I’ll be back at the regular time.” He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest with his hand gripping her ass.

  Though she pouted and wanted to argue more, she still gave Dane his goodbye kiss. They had both vowed, when they got married, to never leave the other without a kiss—no matter how pissed off or how busy. The kiss was a requisite. It calmed most arguments because their passion for each other eclipsed everything else.

  Naomie wanted to wrap her legs around Dane’s waist, hug his wide shoulders and rub against him until he forgot about work and everything else except getting his dick inside her. She didn’t. Work paid for their lifestyle and money didn’t come without work. Besides, Dane loved his job. It was his dream career and one he’d fought hard to get. The only time he complained about it was when it interrupted their fun.

  Like now.

  Their tongues passed over each other, petting and tasting the other. Dane squeezing her ass signaled the end. Naomie summoned up enough willpower to back away from her man so he could leave. She even crossed her arms over her chest so he wouldn’t be tempted to come back. It also tamped down her temptation to run her fingers through his short, black hair that was styled in a perfect, sleek side-comb style. Doing so would start a chain reaction she wouldn’t be able to stop.

  Dane must have interpreted her posture as irritation because he sighed again. “I’m sorry, sugar. I am. I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”