Charlie & Co. by jallen944© Part 1 His hands were full. He pushed the swinging door to the kitchen open with his foot and went in. Just inside the door, he paused, and his left eyebrow arched up. Charlie was there, on the other side of the island, with her hands under the front of her shirt, squeezing and molding her breasts. As soon as he came in, she looked up, smiled, and quickly pulled her hands out from under her shirt. "Sorry. I didn't know you were busy," Jimmy said. He set the four empty wine glasses on the counter. "Don't worry about it, Jimmy. I just had to fix a little pinching problem," she said. She straightened her snug blouse over her short, black skirt, brushed back her dark brown hair, and held her arms out. "What do you think?" she said. He glanced at her and smiled. On the counter next to her was an empty whiskey tumbler, and she had a little bit of a drunken slur to her words. "They look great," he said. Charlie put her hands on her hips. "But what?" Jimmy opened the bottle of merlot and was just about to pour some into one of the glasses. He paused and looked at her. "I'm sorry?" She smirked. "But what? You were going to say they look great for being fake." He shook his head and chuckled, and poured a little merlot into each of the four empty glasses. "I wasn't gonna say that," he said. She put her hands over her breasts and squeezed. "You don't have to. I can see it in your eyes. I see it in the eyes of every man when they look at them," she said. She leaned on the counter with one hand, put her other hand on her hips and pushed her hip out. Jimmy put the cork back into the merlot bottle. He looked at the door, then back at Charlie. "Jesus, Charlie. You're Frank Mercer's wife. I'd never say anything like that," he said. This time, Charlie chuckled. Her nipples were hard and poked through her shirt. She flicked at one with her fingernail. "Don't bullshit me, Jimmy. That's what they all say. Frank Mercer left his wife to marry a girl half his age. Well, Frank didn't have to pay for these. They're all mine." Jimmy leaned against the counter, facing her, and sipped the wine. His lips pinched. Too sweet for him. "I believe it. And they look fine, too. And I don't care if you are two years younger than me. But you're still the wife of my Dad's partner, and that means you're off limits." She had that smirk on her lips again, and took one step closer. "Let's go back to the part about how my boobs look fine. How fine?" she said in a softer voice. Jimmy put the glass of wine on the counter. Maybe there was a beer in the fridge. He looked straight at her chest, then back up to her eyes. "They do look fine," he said, and had a devilish grin on his face. Charlie's eyes looked down, too, then back up to his face. "I gotta tell ya, Jimmy. I've been noticing how you got a little extra where most guys don't show much," she said. His eyes narrowed. "What are you trying to tell me?" he said. Her eyes were locked squarely onto his. "I mean your cock, silly. You got a big one, don't you?" He grinned. He was surprised to feel his face grow warm. "Does that embarrass you?" she said. He looked away. "There isn't much that embarrasses me any more," he said. Between his legs, his penis stiffened and pushed out the front of his neatly pleated slacks. Charlie's hand reached out and touched it, and her eyebrows arched up. "You certainly don't need to be embarrassed about that," she said. He watched her face. She knew exactly what she was doing. However, he could not stop thinking that she was the wife of his father's partner. And he should not be flirting with her in the kitchen of his parent's house, especially not on the night of his father's retirement party. She smiled at him, too. Her big, brown eyes sparkled. His cock twitched and grew harder, stretching down the leg of his slacks under the warm caress of her hand. He could not deny that he had been horny for her and her hot body since that day three years ago that he was introduced to her at the Club. He would have jumped her right there, just thrown her on Judge Feingold's table in the Men's Grill, right into his grilled chicken Ceasar salad, and started pounding her, if he wasn't standing with his father, shaking Frank Mercer's hand. So was it any wonder that he made no move to get away when he had Mrs. Mercer's hand on his cock?