I awake lying naked, on a cot, in a pure white jail cell. Well, almost pure white. There are four black video screens on one wall. As the only non-white things in the room, they attract the eye.
There is a large screen in the middle. It is at the eye level of someone seated in the room's only chair. The other screens are on both sides and above it. The cell also has a cot, a toilet, a sink, and a door with a small view port and a small slot at the floor, presumably for the passage of meals, which I hope are not pure white.
I contemplate how I got here. I was having a drink in a hotel bar while waiting for my lover to arrive. A beautiful woman struck up a conversation with me. Then nothing.
"Dafuck? How did I get here?"
Nobody answers. I'm alone. I go to the door and try to open it. No luck.
"Well, fuck me."
I see a flicker in the corner of my eye and it's the center screen coming on.
"Char-ulls, Come have a seat, please." The way she says it sounds vaguely foreign. Maybe British.
I cover my johnson and sit in the chair. It's the beautiful woman from the bar.
"What the fuck am I doing here?"
"I can see you but I can't hear you. Are you feeling okay? Any nausea or anything?"
I shake my head.
"Good. we've been perfecting our technique. It's my duty to inform you that we'll soon be informing your wife of your infidelity. There's nothing you can do to prevent that. We're... why are you laughing?"
I'm laughing because this is gut busting hilarious. "You are so busted and you can't even hear me say that."
"Marcia, please plug his mic in... Is it on? Thank you. Charles, why are you laughing?"
"Call me Chuck, or Charlie. Charles always sounds so fuckin' British."
"Okay, Charlie, please, tell me why you're laughing."
"You gals are so busted. Let me guess. You're trying to blackmail us, right."
"No, Charlie. This is a marriage rehab service. I'm offering you your options. Your wife is going to be here soon and you have a choice of leaving now or cooperating with us."
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of leaving. By all means, tell her. I can't wait to see this."
She looks confused, maybe even perplexed. Possibly even bewildered or nonplussed. Fuckin' English. Four different words without a penny's worth of difference between them.
"Okay...? You've agreed to cooperate. That's what matters. Marcia, unplug his mic."
She clicks some keys on a keyboard on her desk and looks away. I think she's turned off the monitor, so I let my hands slip away from my chilly willy. I don't know why I'm thinking of Brit terms. It's probably because this absurd situation reminds me of something Monty Python would dream up. I miss those guys.
I hear a knock. The woman looks up and says, "Come in."
My 'wife' enters the office.
Still looking confounded, or maybe more befuddled -- Fuck me, but that's six words where one would do -- the beautiful woman offers her hand and says, "Thank you for coming, Ms. Titsworth. My name is Cindy Thomas. Please have a seat."
Okay, so she didn't really say titsworth. That's just my favorite pet name for my 'wife'. Under the circumstances, I think I shouldn't mention our real surname. And besides, it sounds so Monty Python...esque.
Millie looks around as she sits. She glances over toward me, but it's clear she doesn't see me or the camera on her end.
"I wish the circumstances today were different, ma'am. Before we get started, please check your email. There should be a recent message from your employer."
I watch as Millie checks her smart phone. "Hmm. You're right. My trip is canceled and it looks like I'm to take this meeting very seriously. What's this about?"
"Thank you, ma'am. Unfortunately, I have the duty to deliver some unfortunate news."
"Yes, ma'am. My company is contracted by your employer to provide executive employee monitoring services. In short, we keep tabs on you and the other high level employees of your firm, to protect the firm from scandal and other losses."
"This sounds serious."
"Part of our duty is to monitor the families of the executives. An employee can be compromised, virtually useless to her employer for at least some time, if certain situations occur. One of those situations is divorce."
"Chuckie is divorcing me?"
"No, ma'am. We've found nothing to indicate that."
I snicker as Millie displays her innocent wife act.
"Then why am I here?"
"Please be patient, ma'am. This is not pleasant. The problem, is that we've detected behavior that might lead to severe marital strife. Are you aware of your husband's online habits?"
"What? No. What online habits?"
"Specifically, ma'am, his association with sexually oriented websites."
"No! That's news to me. I don't pry into his computer."
"We thought that to be the case. He favors one site in particular. It is probably the most popular website for erotic stories, but it also has forums and chats and quite a bit of cyber sex occurs."
Of course, Millie knows all about my online activities. We sometimes take turns reading each other stories.
"Chatting about sexual acts, sometimes accompanied by actual masturbation. Some of the participants take it to the next level and meet their online lovers in person. Forgive me for this, ma'am, it is the worst part of my job. Your husband has been having an affair with a woman he met on this site. We normally don't get involved when such romances remain online only. We step in only after direct physical infidelity has occurred and only when we believe it would devastate our client's employee and compromise her, or his, ability to perform their job."
I see Millie's facade slipping. She can barely contain her laughter. Finally it busts out into what can only be described as braying. God, I love that girl's laugh. We're both practically rolling on the floor now as Cindy looks even more chagrined, possibly even disconcerted, or maybe more rattled. Almost discombobulated. Holy shit, ten words.
Finally, Millie's laughter fades enough that she can speak again, after wiping the tears of humor from her eyes. "Forgive me, Cindy, is it? I see how taken aback you are."
Eleven words! Well, ten words and one two-word expression.
"Is Cindy your real name or just an alias for your blackmail scheme?"
Now Cindy looks embarrassed. Possibly even chagrined.
"I'm afraid you've mistaken my intent, ma'am. This isn't extortion. It's an intervention on behalf or your employer."
"An intervention into our marriage? What a hoot. You've been spying on Chuckie and caught him dipping his wick into some other woman? Well, he's got to get it wet somewhere."
"So you have an open marriage?"
"I assume you have a confidentiality agreement with your client, my employer?"
"Yes, ma'am, that's standard."
"Well, you blundered into a sham marriage. Dear Charlie is my half-brother... and my beard. Let's just say that I misspent part of my college years with a woman who rides a Harley in the Dykes on Bikes parade, and I never looked back. And you can't use that against me with my employer, because I've been dipping my tongue in his wife's honey pot for years."
"Oh. I'm sorry about the mistake, ma'am. Now I understand why your psych profile indicated that a woman should deliver this news, but... Oh dear. Marcia, please release Mr. Titsworth."
"What? You kidnapped my husband?"
"Um, you can talk to him if you like. He's fine really. Marcia, get his mic first."
As she's saying this, she taps some keys. I can tell right away when their monitor comes on.
"Geez, Charlie, you're naked. Are you okay?"
I whip my hands over my johnson again. Even though she's queer, there's nothing quite as embarrassing as having your sister see your dick. She's always walking around the house in next to nothing, or less, probably because she knows I do like what I see. I wouldn't touch her, but I'll spank little Chuckie to visions of her with her girlfriends.
"Geez, Sis. Yeah. I'm fine, really. As long as I get my pants back."
"But they kidnapped you."
"Looks that way, but I honestly can't swear that I didn't sleepwalk here."
I hear the door open behind me and a truly delicious babe walks in with my clothing.
"Hi, sir. I'm Marcia."
"Pleased to meet you. I'd shake hands, but..."
Cindy says, "We do apologize, sir. We've never had such a fiasco."
"Oh, so now I'm sir? Well, don't sweat it. No harm, no foul. This has been hilarious. We'll be laughing about this for decades."
Cindy seems relieved, mollified, soothed, you get the idea.
"So what was going on here?" asks Millie.
"Um, ma'am, I was going to offer to help you get over his, um, transgressions, while he would have to watch. He made the choice to stay."
"You were going to lick my..."
"And do all the other things he did with his lover. To the best of my ability of course, until tomorrow afternoon. I have a list here."
Millie grabs the list and reads it. "Well, I sure wouldn't turn any of this down. You are still being paid, correct?"
I love my sister so much. She always sees how to get the most from life's rich bounty.
"Yes, ma'am. If we can just overlook this debacle."
"Ooh, nice word choice, Cindy"
"Thank you, sir."
"Cindy, I like what you're offering and I'll overlook the fact that you spied on me, because I'm sure that you've covered your ass with that contract with my boss. But I think my brother from another mother deserves something out of this, too."
"You mean a threesome with you and me?"
"No, not that. He really is my half-brother and we don't do incest."
Marcia speaks up, "Cindy? I know I haven't finished all my training and I'm not a pro yet, but Charlie, I mean sir has been a really good sport about all this and he's kinda cute, so..."
I know I'm blushing now. I hate it when I blush.
"Marcia are you saying you'll..."
"Take one for the team. Yes, I'll take more than one. I saw that list. I'll gladly do everything on it with this guy, even if it takes more than 24 hours. I don't know how you want to work the viewing stuff though."
"Um, Millie do you want him to watch?"
"Sure, I'll bet he can learn a few things from watching some girl-on-girl."
"Okay then. We can get started here and then move to the hotel room."
Millie, being her usual self, says, "All-opposed-say-nay-the-ayes-have-it-let's-get-started."
If I had been thinking of objecting, one look at Marcia sliding her jeans off those slender hips took those thoughts and shredded them like evidence of tax evasion. Did I mention she is one smokin' hot college-girl type? For a guy who's pushing 40, when opportunity knocks, you open the door and tackle her.
She's wearing these tiny little black panties. If I had a favorite style of cunt-cover, those would be them. She slips them off and I see the cutest little nest of jet black hair. It looks like a Groucho Marx mustache. It's so enthralling that I almost don't notice that she's peeling off her shirt. I look up just in time to see perfect B-cup bazoomies being unveiled. Little Chuckie quickly develops a mind of his own, not that I'm disagreeing with him.
"The list starts with head, sir, I just happen to have one of those, right above where you're staring."
I look up and she's smiling. She drops to the floor and pulls my knees apart.
"Sir, this will work better if you move your hands."
"Oh, shit. Sorry, Marcia. Ohhhhhhhhh."
She's not a pro yet? She sure is fooling little Chuckie. He think she's spent decades perfecting the art of sucking his kind. I look at the monitor and see Millie, giving me a thumbs up sign as Cindy dives into her muff. Is it still called a muff when there's no hair there? Millie's wearing some kind of headset and looking down at her crotch. The top screen is showing a Millie's-eye-view of Cindy's pussy licking prowess. Millie's right, I am learning something from this. I hope I can remember it for Marcia's sake.
Speaking of whom, she's sucking my balls and doing something wonderful with a fingertip against that sweet spot on the underside of my boner. It's circling around and around at about the same pace that Cindy's tongue is circling Millie's hot button. Millie starts making those sounds that I usually hear coming from her bedroom when the Bailey twins visit. She's close to coming and her hips start to buck as Cindy sticks a second finger into her cunt.
"Ohh. I'm coming, Chuckie. This one's for you."
The sound of Millie's orgasm and the skilled application of Marcia's tongue and fingers brings the cum out of me like frosting from a... whatever you call those little frosting squirters. Marcia backs away just in time and takes a shot right in the forehead.
"Woohoo, sir. Gimme s'more. That's it. Right in the kisser. Mmmmmmm."
She strokes the last few pulses into her mouth and winks at me.
"You really don't have to call me sir, Marcia."
She whispers, "Thanks Charlie, but Cindy will decide when I'm ready to certify as a marriage rehabber. Got to act professional for that."
She raises her voice back to normal, "I really do want to thank you for being such a good guy about this whole solecism."
"Ooh, excellent word. I was expecting 'blunder'. This has been so fun I should be thanking you. And I am. That was a hell of great blowjob."
"And we're just getting started."
We look up to see Cindy and Millie watching us.
"Hey you two," says Millie, "Get a room."
"Yes," adds Cindy, "With us."
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