Read Online New Balls Please (Ball Games #3) by Andie M. Long - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Andie M. Long
Ads: Link
First a shower. Then I need to buy some housewife-looking attire. I'll pop to the retail park. After this, I must clean and prepare lunch for two pm. It's now nine-thirty am. I'm up early because I made Tim his breakfast before he left for his game. On a Sunday, I'm not normally out of bed until ten.
I pop into Next at the Retail Park and find a fifties style floral patterned dress. Belted at the waist with a swing skirt, it’s navy blue with pink flowers. Then I head into a kitchenware store and buy a pale pink pinny to put over it. I find some pretty pink washing up gloves with a fluffy white edge and finish by picking up oven gloves in the same fabric as the pinafore.
Back home, I get a bucket of hot water with a tiny drop of washing up liquid (as advised on Pinterest) and set about on my hands and knees scrubbing the floors, using a sponge and then drying it off with old tea towels. Starting at eleven am and emptying out and getting fresh hot water on a regular basis, it takes me until twenty-to-one to do them all. While I clean, I wear my old gym kit and a pair of regular rubber gloves. My knees are killing me. Half way through I grabbed a cushion from the sofa to place under them. I hope Tim doesn't want a blowjob tonight because I may cry.
There's no time to rest as Tim will be back soon. It's time to get Sunday lunch underway being as I now have to ensure he gets a starter, main course, and dessert, along with a beverage of his choice, be it a cup of tea or a beer.
At one-thirty, it's time for yet another shower, after which I put on make-up, style my hair and dress in the new frock and pinafore.
When I hear the key in the door, I rush to the entrance. I pass Tim his slippers.
'Oh, thanks, love. Let me just get in.' He hasn't changed out of his golf shoes and as he walks into the hallway large clumps of dirt fall off them.
I fix a smile on my face and increase my grip on his slippers. No, you can't beat him around the head with them. You are a loving and caring other-half.
He finally takes the slippers off me.
'If you'd like to get changed, dinner is almost ready,’ I tell him.
'Dressed like that we might not make lunch. It might be straight to dessert.' He undresses me with his eyes and winks.
I emit my new girly giggle. It's very high pitched because I feel strangulated.
Monday. Camille's birthday. Thank God Tim has gone to work. I work Wednesday to Friday so today I can enjoy the silence. Firstly, I text Camille a happy birthday and then open the laptop. The housework schedule pings up. Today I'm supposed to clean every window, picture and mirror in the house. That's just for starters. I clean for a living. I don't want to clean my own fucking house. It's a Busman’s holiday. I glance towards the glass filled conservatory. Fucking hell. Life was so much easier when Tyler lived here and I could pay him to do the housework. Ping. Lightbulb moment. I Google local cleaning services. In an hour, I'm talking to a lovely lady named Claire who will be around at twelve. If we get on okay I can book her to come Mondays and Tuesdays to do a deep clean, and then I can spend the rest of the week doing minimal housework such as laundry. She'll even take the ironing with her Monday and bring it back Tuesday. Perfect.
I scan through Pinterest and research birthday cake ideas. Finally, I spot coated cake pops and get an idea. I read up on how to dip them and then pop out to the supermarket for some ingredients. While I'm there, I purchase a lucky dip, something I always put in birthday cards as an extra treat. The woman behind the counter asks me if I'd prefer a lottery ticket instead as it's a rollover. I buy one and stick it in the back of my purse.
At home, I spend the afternoon making cake pops and enjoying the silence. The phone rings at four pm.
'Well, hello there, sexy lady.'
'Hi, Tim. Everything okay?' Tim doesn't ring me unless it's an emergency so my heart rate increases.
'What are you wearing?'
I
I pop into Next at the Retail Park and find a fifties style floral patterned dress. Belted at the waist with a swing skirt, it’s navy blue with pink flowers. Then I head into a kitchenware store and buy a pale pink pinny to put over it. I find some pretty pink washing up gloves with a fluffy white edge and finish by picking up oven gloves in the same fabric as the pinafore.
Back home, I get a bucket of hot water with a tiny drop of washing up liquid (as advised on Pinterest) and set about on my hands and knees scrubbing the floors, using a sponge and then drying it off with old tea towels. Starting at eleven am and emptying out and getting fresh hot water on a regular basis, it takes me until twenty-to-one to do them all. While I clean, I wear my old gym kit and a pair of regular rubber gloves. My knees are killing me. Half way through I grabbed a cushion from the sofa to place under them. I hope Tim doesn't want a blowjob tonight because I may cry.
There's no time to rest as Tim will be back soon. It's time to get Sunday lunch underway being as I now have to ensure he gets a starter, main course, and dessert, along with a beverage of his choice, be it a cup of tea or a beer.
At one-thirty, it's time for yet another shower, after which I put on make-up, style my hair and dress in the new frock and pinafore.
When I hear the key in the door, I rush to the entrance. I pass Tim his slippers.
'Oh, thanks, love. Let me just get in.' He hasn't changed out of his golf shoes and as he walks into the hallway large clumps of dirt fall off them.
I fix a smile on my face and increase my grip on his slippers. No, you can't beat him around the head with them. You are a loving and caring other-half.
He finally takes the slippers off me.
'If you'd like to get changed, dinner is almost ready,’ I tell him.
'Dressed like that we might not make lunch. It might be straight to dessert.' He undresses me with his eyes and winks.
I emit my new girly giggle. It's very high pitched because I feel strangulated.
Monday. Camille's birthday. Thank God Tim has gone to work. I work Wednesday to Friday so today I can enjoy the silence. Firstly, I text Camille a happy birthday and then open the laptop. The housework schedule pings up. Today I'm supposed to clean every window, picture and mirror in the house. That's just for starters. I clean for a living. I don't want to clean my own fucking house. It's a Busman’s holiday. I glance towards the glass filled conservatory. Fucking hell. Life was so much easier when Tyler lived here and I could pay him to do the housework. Ping. Lightbulb moment. I Google local cleaning services. In an hour, I'm talking to a lovely lady named Claire who will be around at twelve. If we get on okay I can book her to come Mondays and Tuesdays to do a deep clean, and then I can spend the rest of the week doing minimal housework such as laundry. She'll even take the ironing with her Monday and bring it back Tuesday. Perfect.
I scan through Pinterest and research birthday cake ideas. Finally, I spot coated cake pops and get an idea. I read up on how to dip them and then pop out to the supermarket for some ingredients. While I'm there, I purchase a lucky dip, something I always put in birthday cards as an extra treat. The woman behind the counter asks me if I'd prefer a lottery ticket instead as it's a rollover. I buy one and stick it in the back of my purse.
At home, I spend the afternoon making cake pops and enjoying the silence. The phone rings at four pm.
'Well, hello there, sexy lady.'
'Hi, Tim. Everything okay?' Tim doesn't ring me unless it's an emergency so my heart rate increases.
'What are you wearing?'
I
Similar Books
