Getting a new bed

The next morning, the awkwardness was palpable. Carrie served breakfast with a **** smile, her eyes avoiding mine. The silence was broken only by the occasional cough from my grandpa as he read the newspaper. It was clear that neither of us knew how to address what had happened the night before. The only indication of the carnage in the bedroom was the missing bed frame, now replaced with a mattress on the floor.

I stand up give her a kiss, "I have to go to work now. Make sure you guys don't break anything else, okay?" I try to laugh it off, but it's clear that the tension from the night before is still in the air. "Oh, by the way, honey, me and Grandpa are going to Furnitureland to get a new bed and stuff," she says shyly, her voice sweet and innocent as always, but her eyes dart around the room, avoiding mine. My stomach turns at the thought of them being alone together, even for something as innocent as buying furniture.

I couldn't concentrate at work. The images of them together, the sounds of them fucking, the thought of Carrie enjoying it all played on repeat in my mind. It was a strange mix of arousal and anger, and I wasn't sure how to deal with it. I kept checking my phone for messages, but there were none. So I decided to call her, I needed to hear her voice.

"Hey babe.", trying to keep my voice casual despite the storm of emotions brewing inside. "Hey honey, We're still in Furnitureland," Carrie replies, her voice dripping with sweetness. "We're just trying... I... I mean, Grandpa's just trying out different beds.", she stumbles over her words and I can almost feel her winking at him. "I've got to go. We're going to grab lunch."

As the day goes on, she sends me a selfie of her sitting on a giant four poster bed, her legs crossed and a naughty smirk on her face. "Found the perfect bed!" she texts alongside it. The way she's sitting, I can't help but imagine her on her back with my grandfather's weight pressing her down into the mattress. It's clear she's enjoying the situation more than she's letting on. I zoom in on the price tag. Not the price, but the name and description of the bed gets my attention: "Honeymoon – Sturdy Bed For 'Active' Couples". "Just a coincidence," I tell myself, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach.

When I get home that evening, the house is eerily quiet. Carrie and grandpa are still out. With every passing minute, I feel more and more like an outsider in my own relationship. I go to our bedroom to change out of my work clothes, and as I enter the room, I catch a whiff of his cologne. It's faint, but it's there. Did they fuck here too? I feel a mix of anger and sadness that I can't quite shake.

They finally arrive giggling, "Oh honey, you're already home!" Carrie exclaims as they walk in with their arms full of shopping bags. "We had so much fun picking out the new furniture and stuff!" Grandpa's eyes sparkle with mischief as he looks at me, and I can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. "They're bringing the furniture tomorrow," she says.

Throughout dinner, Carrie keeps finding reasons to touch my grandfather, her hand brushing against his leg, her arm draped over his shoulder, her breasts pressing into his side. Every time she does it, I feel a pang of anger, but I push it down. After dinner, she insists on cleaning up, giving him a peck on the cheek. "Why don't you go watch TV, sweetheart? I'll join you in a bit," she says, her voice dripping with honey.

As I sit in the living room, I hear the clinking of dishes and their muffled whispers from the kitchen. The tension in my stomach tightens with every passing second. When she finally joins me, her cheeks are flushed and her eyes sparkle with excitement. She sits down on the couch, a little too close to my grandpa, and snuggles into his side. I can see the outline of his erection through his pants, and the way she's pressing against him isn't helping. Finally he can't stand it anymore and stands up, "I'm going upstairs to make some room for the new furniture," he says. Carrie giggles, "I'll help you," and as she starts to sprint up the stairs, I get up and follow her, but she lays her hand on my chest,
"Why don't you go watch TV sweetie? We'll be down in a bit."