Jay's infatuation grows

As I walk back to my car, picturing the way she looked tonight, not really showing too much other than a shoulder and her legs, I piece her together from every delivery I’ve done to her house.

That first night, she was pure glamour with the way her hair was cascading down her back, and the dress clinging to full, heavy breasts. Not to mention the dramatic flare of those unmistakably Latina hips, that led to legs I bet would’ve seemed endless in the heels she’d been carrying. But since then I’ve gotten to see the version I imagine most people probably don’t get to. With that, I’m just referring to seeing a woman that’s probably so put together and polished, just to go to the grocery store, that I can’t imagine anyone getting to see her when she doesn’t bother dressing up. The real Sofia.

Her face isn’t quite square-shaped, but she has a pronounced jawline that gives way to a rounded chin, giving her an elegant and feminine appearance. Then there’s the high, prominent cheekbones that sit just below her almond-shaped eyes, that are always expressive, no matter what that expression is. Her eyebrows are always perfectly sculpted, just a tiny bit thicker in the middle and then becoming narrow arches as they move outward. Perfectly centered in her face is the small, refined, and slightly pointed nose, that hovers over the full, plush lips that barely even need lipstick, they look so good. The shape of them, along with the natural and subtle curve at the corners, almost give her the appearance of having a tiny smile half the time. And I think that’s a part of what makes her still come across as somewhat approachable to me now, after having seen her so many times. Well, that and just seeing how worn down she’s seemed lately.

Beyond just her face, she has rich golden-caramel skin that’s indescribably smooth and like it would be softer than any of the girls I’ve dated before. Curves that make me feel the need to adjust myself every time I see them. And did I mention generous sized tits? The way they move under her tops, with or without a bra, is too much. For having two kids, I was blown away that first night when I saw her narrow waist, and the way it curves in before spreading out to her wide, rounded hips.

Combine all that with an ass so full and perfectly shaped that even the baggy sweatpants she wore through half the winter can’t hide it. The loose cotton just drapes over it, jutting out and hinting at what I imagine is perfection based on the sway and how each globe flexes when she walks. But no matter what, you know what’s underneath is something else entirely.

Most nights now, it’s a quick bun with a pencil or something thrown through it to hold it in place, and comfy clothes that do a decent job hiding her curves, but not entirely. She’s stopped trying to look perfect just because the delivery guy was on his way, and somehow that raw, natural version makes her even more intoxicating. I enjoyed believing I was the only guy getting these private glimpses of the woman behind the perfect house and the absent husband.

Yeah, again, she was stunning that first night, all dressed up and glowing, but seeing her simply real and tired, kinda showed just how undeniably sensual she was, even when she wasn’t trying to be.

But then there’s her ass…

My convictions of just how nice that ass is is all thanks to this one time in early December, I think it was. She usually wore her baggy sweatpants that swallowed her figure, leaving everything to the imagination. There was nothing inherently sexy about them, and they did nothing to prepare me for what came next.

She opened the door and she must’ve been fresh from a workout based on the glow of her skin with a light sheen on her arms. And the tiny gray sweat shorts she had on... fuuuuuck. It’s not like they were made to be barely there, but on her, they were clinging to her hips like a second skin, stretched thin over every inch they tried to cover. She stepped back to let the door swing open, but then her foot stepped on something, one of the kid’s toys that was sitting on the floor. With a frustrated sound, turning to grab it, she bent over right there in the doorway to pick it up.

I swear time slowed down and my brain stopped functioning. The shorts were instantly pulled tightly across her plush, heart-shaped ass, outlining every perfect curve, and the material had to be straining toward its limits. That was when I got my first real glimpse of that delicious crease where her shapely thighs met those ridiculous cheeks that just barely stuck out of the bottom of the shorts when she bent over. They were smooth and inviting, with this strip of a tan line that ran across them where her ass must’ve slightly met her thigh just a fraction when she laid out for sun.

It instantly made me feel like I needed to adjust myself because my pants were starting to feel a little too tight. When she straightened up, yelling at her oldest son, "Hey! Come pick up these toys before someone breaks their neck!" the shorts had ridden up even higher, getting wedged deep into her crack, as if they were a second skin. They hugged the split and accentuated just how full and round her ass was.

I stood there frozen, with their bag of food dangling from my hand, and a throat that was suddenly dry as hell, while trying not to stare as my brain grinded to a stop. Those thighs were strong and thick, flexing subtly as she shifted her weight to brace herself against the doorframe so she could rub the foot that had stepped on the toy, with one of her hands. The action caused the leg and ass cheek of the side she was holding her weight on, to flex to help her keep her balance.

All I could imagine was reaching out to touch that thing. The baggy sweatpants she typically wore had been hiding a goddamn masterpiece all this time, and now I could never see it in any other way. My appreciation went from casual to full-blown obsession in one bend. I had a good idea of the size of it in her dress that first night, but that doesn’t compare to actually seeing the skin stick out of her shorts.

She was still mid-yell and taking a few steps away from the door, trying to get one of her kids to pick up his stuff when her husband rounded the corner into what I guess would be the foyer. Without breaking stride, he looked down and smiled as he passed her, and then he swung his hand back where it landed in a hard, playful smack right on one of those cheeks that ended with a squeeze that had his hands digging into the meaty swell.

Now, when I say hard, I mean it was loud enough to echo off the tile and walls a little. She jumped with a sharp yelp, then burst into a giggle, swatting at his arm just as playfully. "Stop it, you!" she laughed, but there was a spark in her eyes as she caught my attention in the corner of her eye. Glancing in my direction, I think she blushed, then turned, reached back to pull her shorts out of her ass, rubbed where he smacked, and went back to hollering after the kids again.

He just grinned, stepped over to me, and reached out to take the bag from my hand. "Thanks, kid," he said, checking me out like he was judging me and didn’t think much of what he saw.

I don’t know if it was his intention or not, but it felt like he intentionally marked his territory just for my benefit. I mumbled something back, handed it over, and got the hell out of there before either of them noticed how long I’d been staring. But that view? It’s burned into my mind forever. From what I saw, I didn’t think much of him either. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, and he wasn’t overweight or anything like that. He was just average. Average enough that I couldn’t figure out how he ended up with her.

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