PART TWELVE: New Arrangements
CHAPTER ONE, Show Me the Way to Go Home
Doris Burton Chambers drove home naked after Emily Porter released her. She drove with a sheen of cum drying on her face and leaking from her body onto the car seat. She drove in a giddy haze fueled by the excitement of what had been done to her and the expectation of what she planned to do to herself when she got home.
The Burton family might humor her desires with soft ropes and silk whips, but that lady meant business. There was no thought for her feelings or safety, and there was a definite threat of harm with Emily Porter. The proximity of physical harm excited Doris now, and she had to get home to her vibrator and clothespins. It didn't occur to Doris that Emily had been so good because she was angry, not because she got off on it. There are lots of things that don't occur to Doris.
She parked the car in her garage and hurried to her house, thankful that her son wasn't home yet. There would be no explaining her condition. After all, her family wouldn't have sent her home like this. They would have dressed her up nice and clean and kissed her at the door. God, it was wonderful to be sent away like a beaten dog.
By the time Bill got home (purposefully late to give his mother time to arrive) Doris was lying in bed with a line of clothespins clipped up from her nipples to the top of both breasts and four clips pinching her inner labia while she rubbed the tip of one finger on her swollen clit. She panted through one orgasm, she moaned through the second, and then she cried and twisted her clit for the third before laying breathless atop her tightly made bed. She only barely remembered to remove the pins before falling asleep right there.
#
Robert and Tania Mosswell sneaked into their home after spending ten minutes in the yard watching their children get snacks and generally fiddle around before heading off to bed. Inside, they went directly up to bed as quietly as possible. Once in their room, they collapsed on the bed feeling somewhat stupefied by the evening's experience.
"Did you hear them? Our children? Did you hear them talking about us?" Tania said, unbuttoning her blouse as she lay flat on her back on their bed.
"Yes, I did I guess we're not over the hill after all," Robert said.
"Over the hill? Robert, you came four times," Tania pointed out. "There's nothing over the hill about that.'
"Yeah, well now my cock feels like people were twisting it like a dish rag all night," Robert said. "It hurts."
Tania was asleep.
#
Karen Jenkins pulled into her driveway and was surprised to see that her husband's car was already in the garage. Home. A day early. She entered the house running through an inventory of stories to tell that might explain her absence, her disheveled appearance, and what was quite likely a distinct odor.
She walked through the door biting her lower lip and straightening her clothing.
"Hi, honey," she called out as she entered the living room.
Her husband, Ray Jenkins, was sitting on the couch bouncing a basketball between his feet and watching the late night rerun of that evening's baseball game on the television. He was an affable blond man, six foot two, with sandy hair cropped close to his head in a manner that gave him a military bearing. Military was far from his actual demeanor, however. He was a playful jock, a man who would always be in touch his youth and ready to bring it out. That made him perfect with children, of course. It was ironic that a man who was always ready to play a game and the woman who taught second grade had not been able to have children so far. It was sad.
"Hey, honey," he called back, watching her walk into the room with open admiration. "Where were you?"
"Out. I didn't know you'd be back tonight."
"I didn't either," he said. "But I missed you and the conference sucked, so I drove home after the last meeting. So, where were you out to?" He didn't sound suspicious, angry, annoyed, or any emotion a cuckold might display. He just asked, simply, directly, and without guile.
Though it was just his natural manner of speech, that approach was guaranteed to melt his wife, who wasn't very good at lying. She had never had to lie about her activities before, because he'd never asked. But here he was asking, and she was suddenly unable to find a reason for actions that had made plenty of sense earlier.
"I was . . . Well, I was at a party."
Ray smiled. "Any of my football players at the party?"
"Honey?" Karen tilted her head, regarding her husband suspiciously. "What do you mean?"
"Football players. You know, from my team."
"Bill Chambers," she admitted quietly, keeping her smile in place. "He was there."
"Probably drove you there," Ray said.
"He, well, that is, I . . ."
"Sorry, honey. I'm being a dick." Ray held his hand out to her then, smiling broadly and motioning for her to come closer. When she was close enough, he grasped her hand and pulled her onto his lap. "I'm just wondering about what I'm missing by not letting you know that I know."
"Know?" Karen could feel his cock pressing hard against her butt, so she didn't think he was angry, but she couldn't tell his mood.
"Football players talk to each other, you know," he said. "And coaches are right there to hear them."
"You knew? How long?"
"Not very long, really. I didn't want to get in your way. I mean, with our situation about babies and all, I just figured you needed an outlet of some kind."
"Outlet?"
"Look, I figured that you were having fun and the team was winning, so what harm was there? You know? But now, well, I'm starting to think maybe we should both be having fun. I don't want to have fun without you."
"God, Ray, I'm sorry." Karen felt herself beginning to tear up at his simple statement of need and desire. She felt like all manner of fool just then.
"Don't be sorry," Ray said. "We're different that way, you know. Well, you're different, anyway."
"I just wanted to . . ."
"Don't explain," he cut in. "I don't want to know now. Let's just pretend that I don't care."
"Pretend?"
"Yeah. Just assume that I'm fine with it all," Ray kissed her cheek. "I was really pissed at first, but I talked myself out of making a scene. Then I thought about it and realized that you were still with me. You hadn't divorced me, or complained about my sperm count or anything like that. You didn't change at all. You were just fucking around. That's all."
"That's all?" Karen laughed despite herself.
"Yup, just fucking around. It's only sex. I'm a man, so I know how that works. But I'm thinking now that I should be allowed the same leeway as you're getting. Right? I mean, we might as well fuck around together."
"Are you serious?"
"Yes. I've thought it all out," he said. "I want to go to the same parties as you do, dear. But no more football players. God, you might have gotten us both fired."
"No more football players," she agreed.
"Well, I suppose Bill Chambers can be grandfathered in," he said. "Since he's graduated."
"I think he's sick of me," Karen said. "He couldn't wait to get at the other girls at the party tonight."
"So, it was that kind of party," Ray said.
"Yes, definitely."
"Why don't you go take a shower and then come back down and tell me all about it," he said, pushing her away gently. He rubbed the bulge in his trousers. "I'd really like to hear about what I'm trying to get myself into"
Karen hurried in to bathe knowing that her life was about to enter a new, much more enjoyable phase. Instead of fucking around on her husband, she would be fucking around with him.
#
Emily lay in bed for a long time after Robert had gone to sleep. Her own behavior with Doris Burton troubled her now that it was over. If it had been a sexual thing, a way to get herself off, she wouldn't care, but it hadn't been that. No, she'd tortured the woman because she was pissed off. The fact that it was a sexual torture had little to do with why she did it. All she could hope now was that Doris Burton would never darken her door again.
She should only be that lucky.
#
The Porter and the Mosswell children slept quite well that evening, and all was right in their world.
#
In the morning, the loop woke up to see a moving van backed into the driveway of the Tredweiler house.
CHAPTER TWO, New Neighbors
Terry Carter stood in her living room and looked across at the Tredweiler house as two men from the van carried boxes and furniture inside. She didn't see anyone who looked as though they might be the new neighbors. At ten o'clock, a mini van parked at the curb and a brunette woman, about 30, got out carrying a baby. There were two young men in their late teens with her. One of them kissed her cheek and clutched her butt affectionately. The moving van drove away and they went inside. That was all until two in the afternoon.
At two o'clock, a black Mercedes parked in the driveway and a tall, gray haired man got out along side a sandy haired girl who scowled at the house, the neighborhood, and the man who was presumably her father. He straightened his jacket and walked inside whistling. She walked inside still scowling. It was six o'clock before there was any further activity, but all that happened then was that all four people and the baby got back into the vehicles and drove away.
Terry Carter had quit watching and gone back to worrying about the mortgage long before two o'clock. She and John sat at the kitchen table and sorted through their bills until they finally gave up and went to play with their children, Kristy, 5, and Kyle, 4. All they could really do was put smiles on their faces and go talk to Robert Porter. He was the man who wrote their loan, after all.
When the children went down for their naps at one o'clock, Terry and John retired to their own room to practice their own form of therapy and stop thinking about money for a little while. With Terry entering her seventh month of pregnancy, they were necessarily careful in their activity.
John moved his cock in and out of his wife's swollen pussy with even motions and watched her pendulous breasts respond to the small jolt of his body slamming home between her legs. Quiver and shake, her nipples moving in a tiny circle. Quiver and shake, and they began leaking milk as her orgasm approached. Quiver and shake, and then her legs clamped against him and she cried out as her breasts shook harder and she pulled him in close against her belly. Almost like clockwork, John would shoot his cum up inside of her immediately after her orgasm. Making her cum was just that much of a turn on to him.
