Brittany's Turn in Girls Trip Chapter 7
Brittany lazed by the pool, fondling the triangular top of her white bikini. The complementary bottoms were a thong style with gold chains across her hips, but the hot metal links were regrettably warming as they soaked up the sun. This fancy outfit was more suitable for Vegas and less so for a casual day by the backyard pool, but with her equally casual routine, Brittany was left with little else to wear. The truth was, she was growing tired of her monotonous schedule.
Brittany came from a traditional upbringing where she was taught that a happy life consisted of marrying a wealthy man who could support her, having children, and moving to the suburbs to live a life of social gatherings and leisure. She followed the formula by meeting her husband, Peter, a finance major with aspirations and contacts, and marrying him right after graduation. They soon had kids. Now in her mid-thirties, between sending her kids to school, her weekly yoga class, and tanning by the pool, her existence was dull, lacking inspiration.
Brittany was indeed a living, breathing testament to her family's pictured perfect life. She was the type of woman who kept up with every fashion trend, boasting a svelte frame at 5'7", perfect royal blonde hair, well-rounded breasts, and a sun-kissed glow. Peter was proud of her, just like the cover of a glossy magazine. But as her children began school, Brittany started to lose interest in this unfulfilled routine. Dare she say she was looking for more purpose in life?
Strange as it may seem, Brittany had initially developed a sense of self-fulfillment by being a wife and a mother. Lately, though, she felt completely adrift. It was before she found a text message that would change everything.
Brittany's marriage seemed to be going well. Peter worked long hours at his Fortune 500 job, which meant he came home slow, exhausted, and spent, but also provided for her and her family. Her mother neglected to offer productive advice when Brittany complained about the extra hours he worked.
"Just don't ask him about it, darling. Let him do his work and provide for you," her mother chided, insinuating that Brittany didn't need to care about or understand Peter's life beyond what she'd been taught.
But as time passed, she prayed her mother hadn't been right. She dismissed this feeling until one night when she found herself unable to sleep, fixed on a certain thought. Quickly, she slipped from bed, toes tip-diving onto the hardwood floors. Silently, she crept through the darkness to Peter's office. His phone lay open on his desk, illuminated, so she picked it up and began scrolling through his texts. What she saw sent a shiver down her spine.
(Melissa) I've been thinking about you all day
(Peter) Me too. Wear something sexy tomorrow
(Peter) I'll need to see you first thing
(Melissa) Yes sir ;)
Revulsion overcame her. She'd suspected him of infidelity, but the text messages confirmed it, alright. Brittany hoped she wasn't the only bored, rich housewife.
Brittany stuck with her usual program the day after, exhausted but not revealing any of her findings. Peter, coincidentally, was still unaware.
As she sat on the edge of the pool, Brittany indulged in this mental debate: should she demand Peter end his affairs? How could he break such a habit? Feeling unsure, she chose to quietly remain angry at her family for leading her down this path, and more than that, she was indignant with Peter.
Determined to take control of her life, Brittany hopped out of the pool. Why not? If this was Peter's fulfillment, then Brittany would broaden her horizons as well. Her rage fueled her desire for something new.
Staring at the edge of the pool, Brittany weighed her options as her legs dangled off the side. She recalled humming that same bass note in her mind as she spent her days lying here, parked poolside, like a bored robot. It was time for a change.
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She glanced around. Brittany and Peter's dwelling was in a picture-perfect suburban neighborhood, brimming with large, spacious, two-story homes. At least 3 of the residences had a view into her backyard from the second floor, although the norm during work hours should be minimal residents due to its busyness.
Ugh.
Brittany tugged on the offensive metal chain, tilted her hips up, and removed the bottoms. She experienced a surge of adrenaline and excitement. Striving for more, Brittany casually loosened the straps of her bikini top. Her voluptuous breasts popped out, exposing pert nipples that pointed towards the sun, encircled by sizeable areolas. Brittany scrutinized her stark naked body - her delicate pubic hair was meticulously groomed in a triangle that aimed at her pussy. A pussy that was soaking moist. The prospect of being seen and committing an illicit act exhilarated and stimulated her in an unprecedented manner.
Brittany leaned back against her seat. Glimpsing out of the corner of her eye, she perceived motion in one of the nearby abodes. Her initial instinct was to flee, but another thought swept through her.
Ugh.
Brittany arched her back a bit, accentuating her breasts to present the best possible display. She lowered her sunglasses over her eyes and covertly observed the window. There it was again. The distinct outline of a grown man standing at the window, his face and eyes firmly locked on hers. Brittany had seen him around the area prior; he was an ordinary, albeit slightly unremarkable looking man with a typical suburban father vibe. They exchanged the most rudimentary of greetings, never delving into much more than a friendly "hello." She contemplated any details she had heard about him, retrieving "Phil" and "work-from-home" from her memory. His partner, Stacey, worked as an educator.
A small amount of time passed and Phil didn't budge from the window. He was evidently focusing on her. The mere notion ignited a surge of arousal. Without turning her face to face him, Brittany casually seized the bottle of sunscreen and began to slowly apply it. She squeezed a hefty smear onto her limbs and rubbing it in, then continued her way down. She rubbed it into her breasts, squeezing them and grazing her nipples. She traversed from her abdomen towards her thighs, spreading her legs. Phil would have been able to glimpse her moist pussy if he were closer to Brittany. She rubbed a finger along her pussy's edge, discerning its slickness. Her clit was engorged and pulsating. She had never been this enthused before. She subtly applied pressure on her clit, craving relief.
She peered back up and perceived Phil in the window, yet his demeanor now differed. She narrowed her eyes slightly - his pants were undone, and his hand was rapidly pulling up and down, stroking something obscured within her line of sight, precisely where his penis should be. The utter concentration on his face indicated he was thoroughly captivated by the performance.
Brittany shot up from her seat and rushed indoors absentmindedly, ignoring the necessity of putting on her attire. She quickly strode to her bedroom and grabbed the Hitachi vibrator from her nightstand. She leaned back against her pillow, parted her legs, turned on the vibrator, and positioned it on her clit. Her climax came almost instantly, causing her head to hurtle backward into the pillows and her cries to echo throughout the room. As the ecstasy subsided, she gathered her resources to stow the vibrator away, but she remained turned on. Recollecting the events, she gently manipulated her clitoris until another climax amassed. Ahh, spent, Brittany collapsed onto the bed.
She had not climaxed this forcefully in years, much less in quick succession. Her mind unconsciously pursued what other pleasures she had gone unexposed to. Brittany juxtaposed various possibilities. She bore down on her phone and discovered the group chat.
(Brittany) I COUNT DOWN THE MOMENTS UNTIL [we shoplift] [s]oups at rush hour.[w]e attend a sensual massage parlor.[n]o spouses discover our threesome.[y]our lady hands me her crotchless panties.[s]urely, the anticipation makes this more exciting. [t]the plot thickens.
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- Roommate's Girlfriend in College Chapter 4
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