The lovely blonde was a little repulsed, but she had decided that it was a small thing for her to do if it was something that Eddie really wanted.

"What's on the menu, darling?" he asked, looking around the kitchen.

"Tuna salad," she said, "we're going to go strictly low calorie around here."

"Sounds great to me," he said, "those five pounds I put on over our honeymoon sure show up when I'm playing. I think it was all those chocolate eclairs for breakfast."

"Yes," she answered with mock sterness, "no more decadence at the table. I don't want this body looking like someone blew me up with a bicycle pump."

"I'd like to pump you right now," he leered at her in a suggestive manner.

His hands made suggestive motions down her back, as he smoothed them across her buttocks, reveling in their firm protuberance, cupping the rounded mounds of them in his huge hand and pulling her pelvis in hard to his now stiffening prick beneath his neat white tennis shorts.

Alyce could feel the warmth and the bulging, warm firmness at his crotch, and she knew that he wanted her. She could hardly stand the thought of having sex in the middle of the day and she knew that he felt that it was an added extra with his lunch break.

"Don't you have a group at one o'clock," she asked hopefully. "I mean you won't have time."

"Baby, I've always got time for a good fuck. We could go right over there by the sink and I could stick it in you while you're washing the lettuce."

The handsome tennis pro gave his wife a playful slap on the ass, as she turned to the counter to begin serving the lunch she had prepared for them.

Ignoring his lewd comments she said, "It's almost ready you'd better wash up, Eddie."

The sway of her hips, as she walked away from him, held his attention, his eyes riveted on her, watching the undulating flesh inside the jeans, mentally undressing her and he liked what he saw. That was the reason he had finally married. This woman seemingly had everything.