HOUSEWIVES OF MIDDLEBROOKE-2

Elise whimpered when she had to pull Luca's cock out of her mouth.

Not because Luca told her to..because the sound cut through the room interrupting the heat and tension.

It was her phone.

Vibrating insistently against the cushion beside her.

She froze, lips still parted, breath uneven, her body aching with a need that hadn’t been satisfied…only awakened. Luca’s hand loosened in her hair as she pulled back, the absence immediate and sharp.

“Fuck,” she breathed under her breath, frustration threading through the word.

Luca didn’t speak. He just watched her, eyes dark, unreadable, like he already knew this wasn’t the end.

The phone vibrated again.

Doris groaned from the couch. “You’re kidding.”

Elise glanced down at the screen and her stomach dropped.

Richard.

She swallowed hard, wiping her mouth quickly, heart hammering as she answered. “Hello?”

“Elise,” Richard said, his voice panicked. “You need to come home. Now.”

Her pulse spiked. “What..what’s wrong?”

“It’s Lilibeth,” he said. “She passed out. She’s awake now, but…just come home.”

The world tilted.

“I’ll be there,” Elise said immediately, already reaching for her bag, her body still humming, still wet, still painfully aware of what she was leaving unfinished. “I’m on my way.”

She didn’t look back at Luca as she stood because she didn’t trust herself to.

Doris swore softly. “Shit.”

Elise grabbed her coat with shaking hands. “I have to go.”

Luca finally spoke, his voice low. “Yea sure..”

Something in his tone made her breath hitch but she left before she could think too hard about that.

The drive home was a blur of headlights and half-formed thoughts.

Her heart pounded for Lilibeth…but underneath the fear was something uglier. Something she didn’t want to name. Her body still throbbed, nerves alive, her underwear still wet and uncomfortable against her skin.

She clenched the steering wheel harder.

When she pulled into the driveway, the house was lit up.

Music floated faintly through the open windows.

Elise frowned, stepping out of the car slowly, confusion creeping in. The front door opened before she reached it.

“Surprise!”

The word hit her like a slap.

People spilled into view…smiling faces, raised glasses, laughter. Balloons. Decorations. A banner she hadn’t noticed in years.

Richard stood just inside the door, relief softening his features when he saw her.

“It’s okay,” he said quickly, moving toward her. “She fainted from exhaustion. The doctor says she’s fine, just needed rest.”

Elise exhaled shakily.

“And this?” she asked, gesturing vaguely at the scene.

He smiled. “Your birthday. I wanted to do something special.”

Her birthday. Of course.

The same house, the same guests. The same carefully curated surprise she’d smiled through for years.

She forced a smile. “You scared me.”

“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry. But come on. Everyone’s here.”

She stepped inside.

The familiar faces of Middle Brooke greeted her…housewives with perfect hair and polite smiles, businessmen husbands with practiced charm and wandering eyes. Laughter filled the space, but it felt distant, muted, like she was watching through glass.

She accepted hugs. Compliments. A glass of champagne she barely tasted.

“Happy birthday, Elise. You look amazing. You haven’t aged a day.”

She smiled, thanked them, played her perfect wife role. But it felt… hollow.

Not because it wasn’t nice, because it was predictable.

Her mind kept drifting back to velvet walls and a boy’s steady gaze. To Doris’s laughter. To the heat of a moment that had been interrupted right when it mattered.

What would have happened if the phone hadn’t rung?

The thought made her stomach twist.

Resentment flickered..sharp and unwelcome.

Not at Lilibeth. At her husband Richard.

At the timing, at the interruption, at the way her body still remembered what he had stopped without even knowing it.

She hated herself for it and hated him just a little more.

She excused herself after a while, claiming she needed to freshen up. Richard nodded, distracted by a group of his colleagues.

Upstairs, the bathroom felt quiet. A safe space to burn in shame.

She locked the door and leaned against it, closing her eyes.

Her reflection stared back at her…flushed cheeks, eyes darker than usual, lips slightly swollen.

Her clit still tingling from earlier.

She reached for the zipper of her dress, fingers trembling slightly as she pulled it down.

The door opened and She was startled.

Richard stepped inside, closing it behind him.

“Hey,” he said softly, moving closer. “I’ve barely had a moment with you.”

She didn’t stop him when he cupped her face, didn’t stop him when he kissed her.

His mouth was familiar, careful and controlled.

And all she could think about was how that same mouth had done something very different and filthy not long ago.

The thought sent a jolt through her.

She kissed him back, briefly, politely. Her body responded…but not to him. To memory, to the echo of something unfinished.

She should feel guilty but she didn’t.

He pressed closer, hands settling at her waist. “You’re still unbelievable,” he murmured. “Thirty-eight and you look…”

“Richard,” she interrupted gently. “There are guests downstairs.”

He hesitated, displeased flickering across his face. “I just want…”

“I know,” she said, stepping back. “Later. Okay?”

He studied her for a moment, something uncertain passing through his eyes.

“Something feels different,” he said quietly. “You feel… different.”

Her heart skipped a bit.

“You’re imagining it,” she said smoothly.

Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t.

After a moment, he nodded. “I’ll be downstairs.”

When he left, she locked the door again.

Her breath came out shaky.

She turned on the shower, letting the water heat until steam filled the room. When she stepped under it, the warmth slid over her skin, loosening something tight inside her chest.

She closed her eyes. Luca’s voice. Doris’s laughter. The way she’d been so close.

Her hand drifted lower without conscious thought, movements slow, deliberate, fueled by memory rather than action. The water masked the quiet sounds she made, her head tilting back as sensation built…not from what she was doing now, but from what she hadn’t finished earlier.

She bit her lip, muffling her own moans as she rubbed her clit, trying to do it the same exact way Luca had done it with his tongue.

This was the same body she’d carried through years of obligation.

And suddenly it wanted more.

Downstairs, she heard laughter rise.

Upstairs, Elise pressed her forehead against the tile and wondered how long she could pretend nothing had changed…when she already knew it had.