That evening, Jill took a long hot bath and tried to relax with a glass of wine. One glass turned into two, which turned into three. When she pulled herself out of the tub, she realized that she was buzzed. She put on a pair of panties and a short, silk robe and wandered into the living room with the wine bottle and glass.
The tired young woman reclined slightly on the couch and curled her legs under her. The television on but she wasn't watching.
"I should call Tom," she thought, but quickly resolved to not do that. Despite his treatment of her, she knew that she still considered him her husband. Her upbringing had made her loyal to him despite his terrible treatment of her. It was hard to shake that feeling and she wasn't certain that she wanted to.
Instead, she sipped on the red wine and let her tormented mind drift.
The young blonde's mind went back to her wedding day. It was such a festive, joyful occasion. She thought that she was giving her body and soul to the only man she would ever love. Her supposition was not correct and she began to run through a litany of men she had fucked - several whose names she didn't even know.
The silk robe seemed to dance lightly on her nipples and every shift of her body made her breasts react to the touch. Her hand went to the robe to adjust it so that it would not caress her nipple and she found herself cupping her perfectly formed tit for just a moment too long.
That feels good! She quickly moved her hand away.
The memory of some of these men with their hot meat stroking in and out of her vaginal passage as her spread legs cradled the men between her thighs flashed in her brain. Jill shook her head trying to rid her memory of them but she recognized that a moisture spread in her vagina with the memory.
Not conscious of her movement, her hand drifted to her pussy and she touched herself gently. The electric jolt of sexual energy caused her hand to pull away.
Tom, please forgive me! I have got to stop thinking about them! I don't want to be a dirty slut.
At that very moment, she realized that perhaps what made her hand jump away was that the doorbell had rung at the very instant that she touched her pussy.
She quickly stood up and approached the door, despite the late hour of the night.
"Who is it?" she asked as she got to the door.
"Dan Wilson, your neighbor," was the reply.
Jill opened the door slightly and peeked around it.
"Is everything okay?" she inquired. Dan was Billy's father. He was a standoffish, seemingly rude man who had not spoken more than five sentences to Jill since she and Tom had moved into their house. He and his dumpy wife seemed entirely dissatisfied with life.
But the times that they had spoken, Dan had stared at Jill very creepily. Tom had brushed off her concerns about the tall neighbor man. Now he stood at her door and Jill felt concerned and very alone.
"You need to answer some questions for me," he said and pushed past the door.
Frightened because of her relationship with Billy, Jill tried to maintain her composure.
"About what?" she responded pretending as best she could that she had no idea what was going on.
"I think you know what," he said coldly. "Where's Tom?"
Jill's heart sank. "He's... he's upstairs," she lied.
"Don't lie to me. He hasn't been home in days. His car isn't even around. Where is he?"
"He's out of town... on business," she lied again. She didn't want anyone to know of their marital problems of their separation.
Dan was several inches over six feet tall but not broadly built. Having once been slim, he had all of the markings of middle age - graying hair and an expanding gut. He was probably 40 or 50 pounds too heavy for his frame and carried it all in his stomach, hips and thighs. He was wearing athletic shorts and a sleeveless tank top that hung loosely from his torso over the top of his shorts. The wiry hair on his chest, back and underarms puffed out from beneath the tank top. His lower legs were skinny and white and he wore sandals. His hair was unwashed and appeared uncombed.
A chill ran through Jill's body because he looked as if he had come over in a hurry.
Could he know? Has he found out? She wished that she had never given in to the boys.
Without thinking, Jill pulled her robe tighter around her waist. She wished she was dressed more conservatively.
Dan looked over at the glass of wine and the nearly empty bottle.
"Sit down," he instructed her.
Jill tried to smile but it was forced. Inside, her heart was pounding and she was afraid that she was trembling. Can he know about my relations with Billy?
"What on earth could you need to talk to me about?" Her voice almost trembled, she was so nervous. She found herself moving to the couch and sitting as he told her to.
Dan went into the kitchen and brazenly looked around. He opened the door to the refrigerator and pulled out a couple of beers. He picked up a second bottle of wine and the cork screw as he made his way back into the living room.
Jill watched him fearfully. She was frantically trying to gather her wits.
He placed the bottles on a side table and made his way back to the kitchen and picked up a chair from the breakfast set. He put it down only a foot or so from Jill and sat on it, directly in front of her.
"So you had sex with my boy," he said.
Jill gasped. He knows! He knows! How could he know! Why would Billy tell him?
"That's crazy!" she said. "Take that back! Get out of here!" Jill was very animated but apparently not very convincing. Dan didn't move.
"Jill, shut up. Billy's told me everything."
The man was lying. He had not spoken to his son, but had gone through the young man's phone and seen the photo of Jill and Bo and dozens of text messages from Billy and his friends about Jill and the fun they had screwing her.
"He's lying," she said. "He's a teenager. They make things up. Why would you believe him? He's..."
"Stop!" Dan said, nearly shouting. "Enough."
Then he continued. "Billy is 18 years old. You can fuck him and his friends if you want to. Billy told me everything." He shifted in his chair. "There's nothing wrong with that if Tom doesn't mind you getting dick from these young guys."
"But one of the boys was 14." Again this was a lie. They were all 18, but Dan was banking on Jill not knowing.
"No!" Jill protested. "They said they were all ... 18," she blurted out before she thought of the implications.
"Well now that that is out of the way. Like I said, you can fuck every 18 year old in the neighborhood, but you can't fuck a 14 year old. That's a felony, bitch."
"I... I... they lied to me," she said, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. "They forced me to do it with them!"
"That is bullshit. If you don't understand, I will spell it out to you. I'm trying to figure out if I should call the cops." Dan watched the gorgeous woman's face. She was in agony and terrified.
"Call the cops?" she repeated. As if this was her only hope, she blurted out, "The police won't believe them!"
"That is a possibility," he said calmly, "but you'll have to go in to answer questions. That won't be fun. And if they do believe them, and I think they will, you'll be charged."
"They won't believe them," she said with less conviction.
"The boys will be able to describe you completely. Your body, your tits, the size of your nipples. They'll be able to describe your bedroom, your master bath, how Tom called while you were fucking them."
