A Year and a Day

CAST

Mark Lewis - Our protagonist, an insurance company man who busts fraudsters.

Andrea Lewis-Hampton - A part time saleswoman and mother, Mark is convinced she is cheating on him.

Susie, Mark Jr - Their children.

Jake Lewis - Mark's older brother. A cross between a cranky cowboy and an engineer.

Mandy Lewis - Jake's wife and professional "bimbo". Not too bright... or is it all an act?

Margaret "Maggs" Fields - Andrea's best friend from college. Party girl and serial adulteress.

Frank Fields - Margaret's clueless husband.

Paul Jackson - Executive director of Sales and Marketing. Suspected of having an affair with Andrea. He's up to something.

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A Year and a Day - Chapter 3

Jake Lewis

I was choking down a bourbon at this overpriced Hawaiian resort bar - twelve bucks a pour, if you can believe it, when Mandy bounced over, looking like a Barbie doll on a mission. Pink dress hugging every outrageous curve, towering heels and blonde hair swinging like she was filming a Pantene commercial.

"Ready for some fun, honey?" she chirped with a wink.

I knocked back the last of my drink and rolled my eyes. She had her game face on, the one that made her a star online. Don't let the bubble gum vibe fool you, under all that sparkle and sex appeal, she's a shark. Maybe not a great white, possibly just a large pink fluffy shark, with glitter for teeth, but all the same, she's got a bite. Lord knows I've seen her chew up and spit out enough suckers, all with a smile on her face and a giggle on her lips. She's the best kind of woman, and the worst kind, if you know what I mean.

"Let's go babe."

I put my drink down and followed behind her - close, but not too close. We had a plan tonight, one that I thought had a pretty good chance of working. At lest better than when Mark dragged me into this mess months ago. We screwed that one up, well mostly Mandy and I screwed each other and barely managed to remember what we were there for. In the end, it didn't matter - Andrea wasn't even in Chicago, which in its own way was vindication of Mark's suspicions, but still not hard evidence of the affair he suspected.

We move from the casual bar, across the great hotel lobby and into the function area, both of us seeing the victim at the same time. Paul, Andrea's boss. A look was exchanged between us, the kind that only people who have been married practically forever would understand, and I made myself melt into the background while Mandy stepped on the gas.

Now, it's hard to understand the effect my wife has on people unless you've seen it in action. Think something along the lines of, trophy wife Barbie meets an exotic dancer, with twice as much tits and an ass that belongs in a rap video and you'd be in the right neighbourhood, but still not quite there. The best way I can describe it is by describing how people react - mouths hang open, wives slap their husbands, the phones come out and people forget all sense of propriety and just start filming. It's like they can't believe it, things like this don't happen in real life, women like that don't

exist

in real life.

And they're right in a way, but now we're starting to get metaphysical and complicated.

Anyway, all this happened just like I said it would, and I have to admit, even after seeing this a hundred or so times, it's still pretty amusing watching a room full of people wondering what the fuck is going on. Paul was no different - he saw Mandy approaching the bar and I think he almost dropped his drink in his lap.

This was the reason why we were here. A couple of months ago my brother Mark asked for our help and the three of us outlined this rough plan. Andrea had told him she was jetting off to Hawaii for an RBS sales conference. It was technically true if you tilted your head and squinted your eyes, but everything she left out was a lie of omission so big that it needed it's own zip code. Mark had a GPS on her, sniffed out a shady stash of cash, almost a quarter of a million dollars she shouldn't have and now he needed us to drive the stake through her cheating heart. Paul Jackson, Andrea's scumbag boss, was the target, and Mandy was the lure..

She was already working the mark, Paul was eying her up and down, showing off his veneers and buying her drinks when some RBS geek waddled up, eyes popping out of his skull when he saw Mandy. "No way, I know you! You're famous!"

Mandy, bless her bimbo heart, just giggled and said, "Well, I guess we all know what kind of porn you watch now!"

There was a brief discussion and tubby pulled out his phone and showed something to Paul. Mandy was commenting something and laughing, I couldn't make it out so I drifted closer.

Paul spun around, grinning like he'd hit the jackpot, and I could see the sleaze oozing out of him. "Love your stuff," he slurred, practically drooling. "Got an event tonight--fancy shit. You should come." Mandy giggled, twirling her hair like a cartoon bimbo. "Ooh, sounds so fab! Can my buddy Jake come too? He's, like, my photo guy--makes me look all pretty!" Paul squinted at me, suspicious, probably figuring I was some jealous lug ready to bust his nose.

"Photo guy?" he grumbled, scratching his gut. "Don't need some random jackass ruining the vibe."

Mandy pouted, leaning in with those big doe eyes and a peek of cleavage. "Aw, but he's super good at snapping me! Pleeease? I'll be extra nice!"

She fluttered her lashes, and I swear Paul's brain melted into his pants. "Fine, whatever," he muttered, waving me off like I was a fly. "Just stay out of my way."

I smirked, tipping my glass. Step one nailed--thanks to Mandy's rack and a little quick thinking. This was gonna be a hell of a show.

Mandy Lewis

Okay, so this "event" was at this gorgeous villa off the resort, glass walls letting in the moonlight, palm trees swaying all sexy-like, total rich-bitch heaven! Paul was all grabbing hands ushering me in, and I let him. He was oblivious of course, but I could feel the steam coming out of Jake's ears.

"Oh my gosh, this place is so dreamy!" I giggled.

I sounded like a total airhead, but that's my whole deal, right? Underneath, I'm actually paying attention, and I notice things. The exits, the beefy security guys, the sneaky vibes rolling off these suits. I'm not just a pretty face with an amazing rack (and rear, and pretty much everything else). I'm the one running this circus, and tonight these guys are my monkeys.

The event itself was boring. I took some photos with some of the more adventurous men and women and got a lot of comments about my boobs. You might not think it, but in public settings, it's usually the women who make the comments. Especially if they've had a glass of Chardonnay or two. I was just talking shop with a middle-aged trophy wife, her sex appeal still being held together by what was obviously a fantastic plastic surgeon, when the crowd started to break up. The chubby guy from the bar, one of Paul's lackeys, came over and escorted me off to a side hall. I shot Jake a look and he nodded, placing down his drink and following behind us.

The hall was packed with RBS bigshots, sipping fancy drinks and yakking about boring stuff, but then Paul clapped his hands like some cheesy game-show host. "Time for the real party, folks!" he boomed, herding a smaller crew, including me and Jake, through a side door.

Inside they snatched our phones - rude much? We were ready for that, though. I had a little recorder tucked in my glittery clutch, and Jake's jacket had a button cam that was rolling like a champ.

We stepped into this lush room, all opulent with red cushions everywhere, lights low and sultry. The vibe was electric, like the orgy was just waiting to explode. I squealed, "Eeeek, this is crazy fun!" and grabbed Jake's arm, playing my part.

Paul spotted Andrea, Mark's wife, all dark hair and lost-in-space eyes, and yanked her over. I almost peed my pants. Sure, we hadn't seen Andrea in years, and the last time she met me I didn't look quite like I do now. I was almost sure she wouldn't recognize me, but you never know.

"Meet my VIP," he smirked at me, his hand sliding up the back of Andrea's skirt.

She barely blinked, just swayed there, obviously high. I checked her eyes for recognition, but she was totally zoned out. I felt bad for Mark and their kids, but we had a job to do.

I giggled, "Hi, sweetie! This party's wild, huh?" nudging Jake to get the shot.

Then Paul turned to me, his eyes all glassy and gross. "Hey, hot stuff, why don't you join us? Andrea could use a friend." He pawed at her, grinning like a creep.

I kept my bimbo smile on, even though my skin was crawling. "Oh my gosh, that sounds, like, so fun!" I chirped, then added quick, "But I'm totally parched. Let me grab us some drinks to get this party poppin'!" I winked and twirled away before he could argue.

Paul grunted, "Hurry back," his voice thick with booze.

I sashayed to the bar, hips swinging, and ordered three cocktails. The bartender barely looked at me, so I checked my clutch - yep, the vial Jake gave me was still there. I glanced at Jake, who was pretending to sip his drink near a plant, and whispered, "Get ready," as I passed him the glasses.

"Which one's Paul's?" I muttered.

He pointed to the one in my left hand, then slipped the clear, odorless drug into it while I blocked the view. It dissolved fast. "Showtime," he said, squeezing my arm.

I strutted back to Paul and Andrea. He was on a couch now, Andrea on his lap, her dress hiked up. "Drinks are here!" I sang, handing Paul his special cocktail. "Bottoms up, big guy!"

Paul grabbed it and chugged half, leering at me. Andrea took hers, sipping slow, her hands shaky. I set mine down and kicked things up a notch. "So, Paul, you wanted some fun?" I purred, sliding the spaghetti straps of my tight pink mini dress off my shoulders, letting the clingy fabric slip down to my waist. My massive fake boobs bounced free, no bra to hold them back, nipples stiff from the electric buzz in the air.

Paul's jaw dropped. "Hell yeah," he slurred, the drugs already hitting.

I knelt by Andrea, smiling soft. "Let's make it hot, sweetie," I whispered, parting her legs. I kissed her thighs, teasing up, tasting her skin. She moaned, wet and trembling, her body waking up despite the haze. I licked closer, almost there, feeling her shiver.

Paul watched, panting, his hand working under Andrea's skirt. "Give me a show, girls," he growled.

I kept going, tongue dancing, until Paul lurching up, stumbling toward me, pants open. "My turn," he rasped, reaching.

I was quick and spun around, grabbing his arm. I cooed, "Oh, Paul, Andrea's all ready for you!"

I pushed him toward her. He blinked, woozy, and fell into it, climbing on Andrea and pounding away, sloppy and wild. She gasped, legs shaking, cum already dripping as he thrust.

Jake's cam caught it all while I flounced around, giggling at randoms to keep the cover. It went on forever--Paul grunting, Andrea moaning--until he finally flopped off, wasted. Andrea was a mess, sprawled out, cum splattered across her thighs.

I slid next to Paul, tracing his chest. "Wow, you're a beast," I purred. "Why do you even do these parties?"

He chuckled, slurring bad. "It's the deals, babe. Clients... they want the girls. Keeps 'em happy."

I leaned in, boobs brushing him. "Really? How's that work?"

Paul's head rolled. "We... we hook 'em up. Andrea, Maggie, whoever. They fuck the clients, seal the deal. Then...hic...kickbacks. Big cash, offshore... shell companies, fake invoices. Money's clean, we're rich." He grinned, drooling a little.

I shot Jake a look. He was recording, and so was my clutch. "That's genius," I said.

Paul mumbled, "Last time... construction guy paid double. Andrea fucked him silly, signed the deal. Half to us, half... gone." He never finished, I guess the drugs and alcohol finally caught up with him.

Jake came over. "Got it," he whispered.

I looked at Andrea, barely moving. "We can't leave her like this," I said.

I could tell by the way that Jake looked at her that he didn't share my opinion. I got it - Mark was his brother and Andrea was nothing more than the cheating slut that was destroying his life. Still, I had some sympathy for her. I had been in her position once, before I met Jake. The memories still bothered me - a dark little whisper behind my bubbly façade.

With a sigh, Jake nodded and fished Paul's key card from his pocket. "Room 512. Let's take her there."

We tried to fix Andrea's clothes as best we could. I found a dress that I thought might have been hers and then we hauled her up, arms over our shoulders, and snuck to Paul's room. It was a pretty typical hotel room, actually a bit less appointed than I would have expected from a guy like Paul.

Jake practically tossed Andrea onto the bed. She was out cold, so I covered her up, then Jake noticed Paul's laptop--screen dark until he nudged it.

"Holy shit," he uttered with a low whistle. I peeked over his shoulder and gasped. The laptop wasn't locked, the screen had just been dark. The reason why was obvious - a full screen video was playing of Andrea, Maggie and some other women I didn't know engaged in a gangbang with a bunch of pasty looking accounting type dudes.

"This is a damn gold mine," Jake muttered. He stopped to ponder for a moment.

"I'll grab my drive."

Right. Jake often carried a big external hard drive with us when we travelled. It was where he would store video of photos of whatever we managed to get up to for later editing and posting to my website.

"I'll be back, quick."

I nodded and he gave me a quick peck on the cheek and bolted, leaving me alone.

I wandered over to the hotel style office desk and sat, watching the screen. Hot scenes, bodies tangled. Andrea was on her knees, three men around her - one cock in her mouth, another fucking her from behind, a third groping her tits. She moaned loud, taking it all, her body rocking with every thrust. Then Maggie popped up, riding some exec, her big boobs bouncing as she screamed, his hands digging into her hips while another guy jerked off over her face. The sounds, the grunts, the wet slaps, the gasps. It hit me like a wave. My nipples tightened so hard they ached, and a hot pulse throbbed between my legs. The whole night had been building to this. Molesting Andrea, teasing Paul, watching him fuck her, playing the slutty bait - Damn it, I was so horny I could barely think straight. I needed Jake to fuck me senseless, to pin me down and make me scream.

I couldn't stop myself. My hands moved on their own. One slid up, tweaking my nipples through the dress, pinching them until I gasped. The other slipped under the hem, rubbing my clit through my drenched panties. I spread my legs wider, eyes locked on the screen. Andrea's face now smeared with cum, Maggie getting pounded doggy-style, her ass jiggling with every slam. My fingers pressed harder, circling fast, my breath coming in short, ragged bursts. I was losing it, the moans from the video mixing with my own, the heat swallowing me whole. I didn't even hear the hotel staff letting Paul back into his suite.

"Well, well, enjoying my stash?" he sneered, closing the door behind him as he stumbled closer.

I yanked my hands back, heart slamming. "Paul, I..."

He cut me off, grinning like a predator. "Don't play coy. I saw you fingering yourself. You want some of that action, don't you?"

I scrambled back. "No, Paul, I was just waiting for Jake."

He loomed over me, reeking of whiskey. "Jake's not here, but I am. Come on, let's have some fun."

I hit the wall, trapped. "Paul, stop. I don't want this."

He grabbed my wrist, twisting hard. "Oh, but you do. I can see it; you're practically begging for it."

Those words, those damn words still haunted me. I had froze the first time I heard them. Like a deer in the head lights. But that was years ago, a different time and a different me.

I yanked free, shoving him with all my strength. "Let go of me!"

He laughed, grabbing both my arms now, pinning them. "Not until I get what I want," he snarled, slamming me against the wall. His knee forced my legs apart.

"Paul, no!" I screamed, thrashing. I was determined, but he was too strong.

"Shut up," he spat, ripping the strap of my dress. It tore, exposing my breast, and he groped it rough, squeezing until I cried out. "You've been teasing all night. Time to deliver."

I swung at him, but he caught my hand, twisting until I yelped. "Stop fighting, bitch," he growled, shoving me onto the bed. He climbed on top, his weight crushing me, one hand clawing at my panties.

"Please, Paul, don't!" I begged, kicking, but he pinned my thighs, tearing the fabric aside.

"You'll love it," he hissed, fumbling with his belt. My eyes were trying to focus, looking for some way out or something I could hit the bastard with when all of a sudden he just slumped over out cold.

Jake stood there, chest heaving, key card in hand.

I shoved Paul off, scrambling into my husband's arms. "Oh my God, Jake," I gasped, shaking. "Thank you." Relief crashed over me like a tide. I was safe, he'd saved me. But my body was still buzzing, that desperate, aching horniness from the night still burning under my skin. The fear had only sharpened it, adrenaline mixing with the lust I'd been drowning in. "I'm so fucking horny," I whispered, clinging to him. "The whole night... teasing, watching, touching myself...t's been driving me insane! I thought I'd lose it, and then Paul... I'm so glad you're here." My voice cracked, torn between gratitude and need.

He held me tight, smirking. "I know, baby. But we've gotta finish this first."

I groaned, half-laughing. "Fine. Let's grab the files and go. Then you're fucking me until I can't walk, cowboy."

Mark Lewis

I sat there, shifting uncomfortably in the plush leather chair, the faint aroma of brewed coffee and aged books swirling around me. Gretchen Müller's office felt like a strange haven, a quiet corner where I might finally wrestle some control over the mess my life had become. I'd called her a week before Andrea jetted off to Hawaii, a nagging gut feeling telling me something was off - way off. Now, clutching the evidence I'd scraped together, I was ready to lay it all out and take the plunge.

Gretchen cut an imposing figure across the desk. Sharp cheekbones, piercing eyes, and a no-nonsense air that matched her perfectly pressed suit. The fabric rustled faintly as she leaned forward, her stern face easing just a touch when she looked at me. "Mr. Lewis, I've got to say, you've put together quite a case here," she said, her voice low and steady, laced with a subtle German accent that made every word feel deliberate, almost heavy.

I swallowed, my throat tight and dry as sandpaper. "Thanks, Ms. Müller. All I care about is what's best for my kids. That's it."

She gave a brisk nod, her fingers tapping the thick folder I'd handed her. "Let's break this down, then. You're a part-time student, working odd jobs, and the one holding everything together for your children. That's a solid starting point for custody. You've got records - doctor visits, school pickups, all the little things. Then there's Andrea - gone half the time, jetting off on business trips, pulling late nights at the office. It's a pattern, and it's clear as day."

She slid the folder toward me, pausing with her hand on it like she was weighing its importance. "And this video," she continued, her tone dropping. "You said it came from an anonymous source at her conference. It's... well, it's damning. Proof of infidelity doesn't get much clearer than this."

My gut twisted at the thought of that footage. I could still see it - Andrea tangled up with some guy, her face twisted in a way I'd never seen, lost in something that wasn't me. It stung like hell, a knife twisting deeper every time I replayed it in my head. But I shoved the hurt aside. "She's not back for five days," I said, my voice steady despite the ache. "I want her served at the airport. Right there, when she lands."