My wife Mindy Carlson and I (Sean Carlson), along with our seven year old girl and five year old boy, moved onto a cul-de-sac after we had been married about ten years. Crimson Court was a cute little enclave of 3,500 -- 4,000 square foot two story houses on 1/4 acre lots mostly surrounded by a forest preserve. The houses were not ostentatious but not devoid of charm either. All nine resident families on Crimson Court were friendly. The tenth house was occupied by Ted Thompson, a single guy, about 30-35 years old when we moved in, who was very sociable and put on more barbeques -- to which everyone on the cul-de-sac was invited -- than anyone else.
While Ted was a nice guy he had some problems, mostly related to domestic activities. In fact, reportedly he was a klutz when it came to cooking (except for barbequing beef, pork, or chicken -- a woman would have to do vegetables), had no sense of style when it came to home furnishings or decorations, and was cursed with whatever the opposite of a green thumb (probably a brown thumb) is when it came to gardening. He could mow his lawn but could never get anything to grow without help, and any decorating he did on his own was garish.
Fortunately for Ted, the wives on Crimson Court liked him and were willing to help him with his problems. Just to be sure that nothing hinky was going on, however, the husbands had an informal pact that no wife could ever be in Ted's house for more than ten minutes at a time regardless of what his problem was. It wasn't that we didn't trust our wives or Ted -- well maybe there was a little mistrust because Ted was charming and his klutziness so endearing to the wives -- but we just didn't want there to be any issues.
Apparently the wives told Ted about the ten minute rule, but he had no problem with it, In fact he even joked with us about it at one of the barbeques that he hosted.
As time progressed all the husbands/fathers on the street (all the families had two or three kids) appreciated Ted because his charming manner with our wives -- and his utter helplessness with domestic chores -- actually made all of the wives happier. As Mindy explained it to me one day when after she returned from Ted's house after a nine minute, thirty second consultation with him (not that I timed it with a stop watch -- just by eyeballing my Timex with a second hand) with a big smile and virtually a glow she said "Sean, seeing how grateful that Ted was just by me moving a few of his pieces of artwork around so that they made a better presentation and picking out from a catalog a new frame for the latest painting that he purchased, made him so happy it left me with a really good feeling."
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Like most guys -- certainly all of the other husbands on Crimson Court -- I'm not the most observant person in the world. However, after about eighteen months on Crimson Court something one of my kids said rang some bell in the far recesses of my normally unperceptive brain.
The next Saturday after the bell went off in my cerebellum Mindy went over to Ted's house for another nine minute thirty five second (as best I could approximate it) consultation. She returned with her normal happy demeanor and glow for having helped out one of the members of the inferior sex. That night she attacked me like a crazed bonobo, sucking my cock, riding me like a rodeo champ with her tits flopping, and squeezing every last milliliter of cum out of me before we dissolved into delirium.
The next day Ted was hosting one of his barbeques and as I was turning the corner from the side to the front of his house to get some ice from our freezer I heard in a voice just about a whisper smiling Sharon -- the hottest of the wives/mothers on the street -- say to Mindy "after Friday I need to get my 12 dress dry cleaned."
I was confused by that statement. I thought maybe that she meant a size 12 dress, but even though Sharon has a large set of headlights she isn't a big woman and probably fits in a size 4 or 6 dress (the same size as Mindy), maybe tailored to accommodate her boobage. I kept running it over in my mind until when I returned from my house with the ice I noticed on Ted's house in bold gold letters the address "12 Crimson Court."
Mindy was not aggressive that Sunday night, but we had a reasonably nice mating of male and female parts, but unlike the night of the last time that she visited Ted I didn't fall asleep quickly. It took an hour of caroming ideas through my mind before I came upon a plan -- and only then did I fall asleep.
Over the next month not only was I hyper-vigilant, but I installed an innocuous high-resolution outdoor camera above my garage door pointed at 12 Crimson Court's front door, and which recorded to the cloud. What I learned was: 1) all of the women on Crimson Court except for Beth -- who lived at 1 Crimson Court -- visited Ted's house twice during that time (Beth didn't visit at all); 2) when each woman visited she had on a three quarter length loose fitting dress; they were of different colors and patterns but they looked remarkably similar in construction; 3) when each woman left Ted's house after stays ranging from the time of entry to time of exit between nine minutes flat (Janice) and ten minutes and twelve seconds (Sharon) they each had a smile and glow but weren't walking funny and didn't have a hair out of place; 4) the nights of the two times that Mindy visited she was again like a mink in heat when we went to bed; and when I inquired of Ray (the only husband on the block who has no qualms about talking about his sex life), he said that his wife Cheryl attacked him the two days that I knew (although Ray didn't) that she visited Ted.
I didn't need to be a genius to figure out that despite the ten minute rule something hinky was going on. I guess the errors that the husbands made in fashioning the ten minute rule was believing that because we couldn't have a worthwhile (where both parties were happy with it) sexual experience in less than ten minutes that our wives and Ted couldn't either, and that there is no way that our wives wouldn't look vastly different if they were just fucked.
As I was thinking about how to proceed serendipity hit. I was having a chat with Ray and Ted about the local college basketball team when Ted mentioned that he was going out of town on business for two nights that week. "Is there anything that needs to be done in your house during that time that I could help with?" I volunteered with a smile.
"Yes there is," he smiled back. "You know that in the last month I got a cat -- Tabby -- excuse the unoriginal name," he laughed, "and while the automated feeder and litter box equipment that I have are supposed to be mechanically fool proof I don't really trust them. Plus Tabby is affectionate and would love some company even if for ten minutes a day. If you could come over and check on the litter box and her food and water bowls, and just interact with her for a few minutes, I'd really appreciate it."
I don't particularly like cats -- we have a dog -- but I don't hate them, and anyway this was an opportunity I couldn't pass up. "I'd be happy to help," I grinned. Later that day Ted gave me a spare key to his front door.
Before Ted left I bought two innocuous motion-activated indoor security cameras with at least a month battery lives which transmitted to the cloud. The first day that he was gone I installed one in his living room and one in his bedroom. I did check the cat's litter box and bowls -- the mechanical equipment worked properly -- and even played with Tabby for ten-fifteen minutes each day. I returned the key to him when he came home, but not before copying it at the local hardware store.
Two days after Ted got back when I was fast forwarding through my garage-mounted camera I caught a glimpse of a woman approaching Ted's front door. When I rewound and played it at normal speed I saw that it was Sharon, wearing the same dress I had seen her in two other times that she visited Ted. She had some baked goods in her hands, and when Ted opened the door and let her in they had no body contact -- just like all of the other times I had observed all of the women.
