Crouching behind the cupboard, you can hear Sarah walk into the kitchen area and begin working on her glass of wine. She takes several more steps, pacing around the kitchen while calling out.
"Mr. ? Mrs. ? Isn't anyone home...?" Her voice winds down as she begins to give up, "Well, maybe I should just hang out for a little while, then call Dad to come pick me up..."
She takes several more steps before apparently noticing the slideshow and sitting down at the computer. "Odd that the computer is on. They must be coming back soon," she mutters.
You peer around the corner of the cupboard to see Sarah sitting at the counter, her back to you. She's not exactly sitting like a lady, slouched down in the chair, her legs spread slightly, but she thinks she's alone, of course. You can't quite see the laptop beyond her, but she's apparently pushing the arrow keys to browse through the pictures slideshow, occasionally giggling or making an "Awww" sound to some of the pictures.
It's only a minute or so, but it feels like eternity waiting. Sarah leans forward and slightly sideways, her elbow on the counter next to the laptop and her head resting in her hand and she presses the arrow key to browse the photos. You can see the screen now, and Sarah seems to be more bored than anything, skipping through the photos somewhat faster.
Suddenly Sarah leans back, stretching her arms over her head. Worried that she might see you as she stretches, you quickly move out of sight.
"Ahh," Sarah yawns, stretching, "I wonder if I can at least go online on this comp-"
Her words stop and a gasp escapes her mouth. "Oh my god!" Sarah whispers. She's seen the pictures.
Leaning around the cupboard, you can't see the screen anymore, but you can see that Sarah's not moving. Her hands cover her mouth and her head is still, she's staring at the picture.
There's no way to tell what she's thinking, but after a moment she leans slightly forward and begins using the laptop. It's tough to tell what she's doing, but she's using the mouse, not typing, so she might be browsing through all those photos in your wife's email.
The thought of Sarah seeing you that way is starting to turn you on, and your erection is returning. Apparently you're not the only one, too: Sarah's left hand has wandered down to her stomach, rubbing gently on her belly through her shirt. Is she really turned on by them?
Your erection is pressing against your pants, and you reach down to give it a gentle squeeze through the pocket. Turning back toward Sarah, she's leaned back in the chair, and you can see she's browsing the photos. Her left hand is gently rubbing her crotch through her jeans... |