"So, where were you last Saturday night Mrs. Marshall?"
"I was at the club."
"The club? There's more than one club."
"It's a sex club that me and my husband belonged to."
"Mrs. Marshallβ¦we have reason to believe that you killed you husband. If you didn't, as you say you didn't, then why don't you try telling me what you think happened."
"Well, it started two weeks ago. I was driving home from work, when all of sudden my engine started to smoke. Then my engine stopped and I was stranded in the middle of nowhere. I had to take side roads because the beltway was backed up because of rush hour. After about an hour and a half only one car had driven by, and they didn't stop to help me. I had my cell phone with me, but it had run out of battery, because I had forgotten to charge it the night before. I noticed in the distance some headlights. I figured that I might have more of a chance of them stopping if I take the gamble that it be a guy, so I unbuttoned a couple buttons on my blouse revealing some cleavage. I knew this would help because I had always had a great body. I may have married young, but being only 26 I'm not about to lose my figure. I'm also very ample. I have D cup breasts, and I had the hope that along with my beautiful brown hair and big brown eyes my breasts might be able to catch the attention of the upcoming car. The car was driving slowly. As it passed by I noticed that it was a stretch limo. It drove past me without slowing, but before long it came back. The window farthest to the back opened slowly and a middle-aged man poked his head out.
"Do you need some help miss?" he asked. I explained to him that my car had broken down. I leaned down into the window to give him as good a look at my cleavage as I could hope that he would indeed help me. He gave my cleavage a glance and than got out of the car. He looked over my whole body. He looked up my long legs, my short skirt, my flat stomach, my chest, and then into my eyes. "If you need some help, miss, you can get into my limo and come to my mansion. I don't have a phone with me, but there are plenty there. By the way, my name is Mr. Hamilton."
"Thank you so much!" I said as I flashed him a sexy smile. During the ride to his home he put his hand on my leg. Being a married woman I would normally object, but in a situation like this, with me as helpless as I was I couldn't say anything.
"I noticed that you're married," he said noticing the ring on my finger. This realization didn't seem to persuade him off my leg, because he was moving his hand ever closer to my pussy along my leg. I wasn't happy about this, because if he thought I was going to do him any sexual favors he was way off the mark, but at the same time I was extremely turned on by the idea of a strange man making his was to my pussy. "When we get to my house you can call your husband to come pick you up." As Mr. Hamilton said this he slid a finger under my panties and felt the moisture building up at my pussy. He took his hand out from under my skirt, and his finger glistened with my juices. I looked out the window the rest of the ride, trying to keep him from seeing that I was turned on.
"Where are we?" I asked as we drove into a mechanically opened gate. After driving up a long uphill driveway I saw as we approached the top of the hill that on the other side was the largest mansion I had ever seen.
"This is my mansion," replied Mr. Hamilton. "We'll call your husband from inside." We drove into the garage, and the driver opened the door for me. Mr. Hamilton showed me down an extremely long hallway. There were doors on either side all the way down the hallway. One door was open a crack, and I could have sworn on my life that I heard a young woman moaning in orgasm. When we reached the end of the hallway there were two massive doors. As Mr. Hamilton opened the doors he revealed a large office, with the back wall as a large window. There was a large desk near the back of the office. I noticed that the wall on the side was a series of small TV's, all black and white. As I looked closer at one I noticed that each television showed different, all very attractive people. In the majority of the screens people were having sex. I stood there watching one in particular. It was a threesome. The two girls had some of the best bodies I had ever seen. The man lay on a bed with his cock being rode rapidly by one of the girls, while the other was kneeling with her pussy over the mans face and with one of the other girls tits in her mouth. Although there was no audio I could see that the girl with a cock in her pussy was screaming frantically.
"Where's the phone?" I asked remembering why I was there. All I wanted to do at the time was slide two fingers up my pussy, but I had to call my husband and get home.
"Here it is, Mrs. Marshall," said Mr. Hamilton as he handed me a phone. I dialed my phone number, and my husband picked up. I explained to my husband everything that had happened. I then gave the phone to Mr. Hamilton to tell my husband how to get here. It took my husband around a half an hour to arrive. When he came into the office his attention was immediately drawn the televisions.