Author: Maximillian Excaliber
By Maximillian Excaliber
Everyone has a secret. Some are big and some are small. Sometimes that secret is a private thing about themselves they don’t want anyone to know and, sometimes it involves others. Those are shared secrets.
This is the story of about people, their shared secrets and the lengths they will go to protect them. Try to keep that in mind while you’re reading it. See if you can figure out who is has what secret to hide?
Chapter One – In Court
It was about 3:30, late in the afternoon on the last Thursday in November. The weather outside was unseasonably cold.
I was sitting at our table in the courtroom waiting to see what Willard Sanders, the attorney for the plaintiff, Lilly Rossi, was going to do next.
My name is Marty Gordon. I’m forty-eight years old; weigh in at two-hundred pounds even, I am five feet nine inches tall. I have a ‘stocky’ build that is, except for my legs, not very muscular. Both my hair and goatee are brown, which I keep cut short and neatly trimmed at all times. Most of the time, I have brown eyes. I say most of the time because when I put in long hours at work, they are usually bloodshot. In my opinion, I’m not very handsome, but to be honest, I’m also not ugly either. What I’m trying to say is that I think I’m just plain average.
That particular day I was dressed in a navy blue classic, two-button business suit and a white shirt. My tie was dark blue with white stripes. On my feet I wore black socks and black, monk strap shoes.
There were four of us at our table. To my immediate right sat my partner, Rachael Wolf.
Rachel is the other paralegal on the team. She’s forty-two and, since I’ve never been good at guessing women’s weight, I won’t even try. However, considering she has a figure that would make a playboy bunny envious, it really doesn’t matter anyway. Her hair, which is black and wavy, flows down past her shoulders. She has pale, almost alabaster white skin, and brown eyes. If I had to compare her to anyone, I’d have to say that she reminds me of a full figured version of Monica Bellucci. She also is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.
Next to Rachael was our boss, Samantha Roberts, the firm’s head and only attorney. I’m not quite sure of our boss’s age but I think she’s about thirty-six. She’s a little skinny for my taste. Hell, I’ll bet she doesn’t weight an ounce over a hundred pounds.
Finally, at the far end of the table sat Vincent Rossi. “Vince”, as he liked to be called, was the defendant in the case and our client. Suffice it to say that he was obviously male and with a name like Rossi, you can bet he looked Italian.
Moving along, at the table to our left was Lilly Rossi and her legal team. Her team was comprised of Lilly Rossi, her lawyer and a paralegal.
Lilly, by the way, is herself, a successful (if not ethical) divorce attorney. Next to her at their table was her mouthpiece, Willard Sanders. And, next to Sanders was his paralegal, a quiet little man whose name I can’t remember.
Sequestered in the Witness room was Gloria Lemons, the self confessed adulteress of the affair and potentially the most damning witness they had.
Before this mess started, Samantha, Lilly, Rachael, Gloria, Vince and I used to be good friends. Now, as sometimes happens, we’ve divided into two camps. On one side was Samantha, Rachael, Vince and myself. On the other, the unlikely team of Lilly and Gloria.
It was the first day of trial and Lilly was about to take the stand.
Her attorney said to the judge, “I call to the stand the plaintiff, Mrs. Lilly Rossi, your honor.” I was somewhat surprised, I had just assumed that he’d present the video, it would be shown, and we’d all go home. Then I could start enjoying my long holiday weekend, Rachael could do whatever it is she does when not working herself to death, Samantha could sulk, and poor Mr. Rossi could cry himself to sleep while he tried to figure out how to pay our bill. Although something told me he wasn’t going to be able to pay it. Lilly had been smart enough to get him to sign a prenuptial agreement giving her everything in the event he committed adultery.
I expected this to be the first and last day of what had promised to be one of the shortest divorce trials in history. The evidence in the case was so strong it was sure to be a slam dunk win… for Lilly and her attorney!
But then she did have what, in my mind, was indisputable video evidence of the husband’s infidelity with his mistress, Gloria Lemons.
You might be interested to know that Gloria also just happened to be Lilly’s best friend… that is until Lilly caught them in bed together!
Unsurprisingly, things started exactly as I expected they would. Sanders went straight for the jugular!
“Mrs. Rossi”, he began, “In your complaint you said, and I quote, ‘I was sure that Vince was having an affair’; is that correct?”
There was an appearance of anger on Lilly Rossi’s face when she replied, “Yes.”
“Were your suspicions correct?” Sanders continued. His voice had changed from professional to soft and conciliatory.
Meekly, she replied, “Yes.”
“How do you know they were correct?”
With an almost triumph look expression on her face, Lilly Rossi answered, “I have proof!”
“What kind of proof do you have?” Sanders asked. His tone showed no change of emotion.
She answered, “I recorded them together.”
“What do you mean you recorded them together? Was it an audio recording? Were you there when the alleged act of infidelity occurred?” Judge Judith Hastings asked, interrupting.
Sanders frowned. For, while it wasn’t common knowledge to the public, it was well known to those of us working in the court system that the judge had recently developed a dislike for his client.
I looked over at Samantha and then at Rachael, both were smiling. We all knew that Judge Hastings was hoping Lilly would admit to being present during the act. If that happened, then Samantha could claim that Lilly had, at the very least, given consent to the act and possibly even been a willing participant. Either way, the allegation of adultery would be effectively nullified. Unless, of course, Lilly said she was hiding at the time.
There was a faint smile on her face that couldn’t conceal the scorn hidden behind it as Lilly replied, “No; I mean, before I left the house I hid two cameras in our bedroom. They recorded the whole thing.”
Still looking at the judge, Lilly said, “I brought the cameras here with me today.”
“Why did you use two cameras?” inquired the judge curiously.
To which Lilly responded, “For a couple of reasons. First, one might fail. And second, I didn’t know exactly where in the room they might be. If I had used one camera, it might not have captured the bitch’s face”
“You know better than that Mrs. Rossi.” The judge interrupted. “You will restrict your testimony to the facts and not embellish it in any way.” The judge warned sternly.
Sanders approached the bench. In his hand he held four evidence bags. Two about a foot in diameter and two were just large enough to hold a single compact disk each.
“At this time, your honor, I’d like to enter into evidence the videos and cameras Mrs. Rossi is talking about. I also request they be marked ‘Plaintiff’s Exhibits 26, 27, 28 and 29.’”
Vince Rossi turned to Samantha and asked angrily, “Why don’t you object or something? You said she only had one video, not two.”
“The truth is Vince that I just found out this morning. I knew about the first one, but not about the second one.
Sanders pulled a fast one on me. He sent the two videos over all right. But one video he labeled “Original” and the other he labeled “Backup Copy”.
I just assumed that the second video was a duplicate of the one labeled “Original’ so we never looked at it.
I tried to keep it out; but, the judge said that, while she was sympathetic, it was my responsibly to examine “ALL” the evidence. She’s right, it’s my fault. I let him get one over on me.” Samantha replied.
Vince looked at her, anger in his face. I guess he realized she’d been tricked because he calmed down and then asked, “How bad is it?”
“As bad as it gets!” She told him somberly.
In a voice too loud, he exclaimed, “FUCK!”
“WHO SAID THAT?” The judge yelled sternly and looked right at Vince. And then before he could answer, she looked around the room as if looking for somebody to blame. “Nobody did it? Well, the next time it happens ‘Somebody’ is going to be in contempt.” Then the judge turned to Lilly and said, “You may continue Mrs. Rossi.”
I looked over at Vince. He was red faced, teeth clinched and tight lipped. The judge had given him a break. I could tell he knew it wouldn’t happen again.
Smiling again, Lilly said, “I hid one camera on the television stand under the TV and the other I placed atop the large dresser on Vince’s side of the bed.”
“Mrs. Rossi, I’m confused. If you placed the second camera on top of the dresser as you say you did, how did it go undetected by Mr. Rossi and Ms. Lemons?” asked the judge.
To which Mrs. Rossi responded, “I guess they were too busy screwing each other to notice it!”
Laughter ensued throughout the entire courtroom; and, a few bangs of the gavel later, the Judge Hastings ordered that cameras be produced.
The evidence bag containing the camera was opened. The camera was removed from the bag and held up for all to see.
For several seconds, silence filled the courtroom as all eyes stared at it. The camera, it turned out, was designed to look exactly like a vibrator. There were a few snickers from the audience.
“That’s a camera?” the judge asked. I could hear the disbelief in her voice.
Unashamed, Lilly replied, “Among other things.”
There was an outburst of hysterical laughter after which the judge, who had turned red faced, probably from embarrassment, was forced to order a recess.
As soon as we left the courtroom, the bailiff walked up to Samantha and handed her a note.
She read it and then said, “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back in a second.”
Samantha led Vince outside, presumably to calm his nerves.
Meanwhile, I said to Rachael, “Have you seen the second video?”
Down the hall, someone opened the door to the courthouse letting in a rush cold of wind. It must have blow right up her black dress because she shivered suddenly and I saw her teeth start chattering.
“No. Have you?” Rachael replied.
I took off my suit jacket and put it around her, then answered, “Nope. But I heard Samantha tell Vince that it’s worse than the other one.”
“Thanks.” Rachael said, and then she added, “Jesus, Marty! How much worse can it be?”
Before I could answer, Samantha walked up. Vince wasn’t with her.
“Where’s our client?” Rachael asked.
A worried look upon her face, Samantha replied, “In the bar across the street getting a drink, he’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“What was that note about?” Rachael inquired.
Then she sprung it on us, “That was from Judge Hastings. She let me know that when court resumes, she intends to let Sanders show the second video. Then recess for the holiday weekend. If you had any plans this weekend, cancel them. We’re all working!”
“But we’ve already checked out of the hotel and what with the holidays, we’ll never get another reservation!” I told her as I thought to myself, ‘There goes my weekend!’
Going into ‘boss mode’, she instructed, “Don’t worry about that, it’s all taken care of. You’ll both be staying at Vince’s residence.
He’s going out of town for the weekend and has given us full run of the place. He told me the place has four bedrooms. One bedroom is being used for storage and he is sleeping in another one.
After what happened to him, he doesn’t want to go near the master bedroom and doesn’t mind if you use it.
You two can figure out who gets it when you get there.” Samantha paused as if waiting for us to say something. I think we were both in shock. When we said nothing, she continued. “Your first priority is to watch both of those videos. Since we haven’t had a chance to analyze that second video, look at every frame of it and see if you can find anything to help us. Then I want you to examine the bedroom as if it were a crime scene. If that doesn’t pan out, go over the entire file again.”
“Are you going to be joining us?” Rachael asked.
“I can’t. Jimmy’s still sick and I’m not going to leave him with the babysitter that long.” Jimmy was the name of her three-year-old son.
“I’m going to drive home when court ends today, but I’ll keep in touch with you by phone. I’ll call you when later and see what, if anything, you’ve come up with.
While you’re working at it from this end, I’ll be going over both videos and the affidavits again.”
It was my turn to ask questions. “What if we can’t find anything? Then what will we do?”
“I know you two. You’ll find something. You always do.” At that point the bailiff opened the courtroom door and called everyone back in. Before she turned to walk to the door, Samantha handed me something and said, “Here’s the keys. Go on! Get moving you two and don’t let me down!”
Two hours later, after we realized that the GPS in Rachael’s car had gotten us lost for the third time, we found someone to give us directions and located the place. Five minutes after that, we were walking in the front door of Rossi’s house.
Chapter Two – Change Of Venue
The first thing that struck me when I walked in the door was that the place was filled from wall-to-wall with sports trophies.
The second that grabbed my attention was the 65” plasma TV to the left as soon as you walked in the front door.
No sooner had I sat first batch of our bags down than Rachael hurried past me. From the way she seemed to be moving about the room, I could tell she was searching for something.
Jokingly, I said, “Didn’t you go before we left?”
“I’m looking for a phone book, smart-ass. Do you want Italian or Chinese?”
I responded with, “Hookers or food?”
“Food,” She replied. “I wouldn’t know how to expense the hookers.”
I countered, “How about ‘Expert Witness?”
“And what am I to tell the auditors when they ask what area of expertise they had?” She asked playfully.
I answered, “Forensic Knot Expert.”
“You’re kidding right?”
I told her truthfully, “You could always try it. I read about this guy in Great Britain last year. He’s a member of the International Guild of Knot Tyers & Forensic Science Society.”
“Okay, I’ll bite, how does that make a hooker an expert witness?”
While taking off my jacket, I said, “Well, a couple years ago, before you joined the firm, I was on this case involving a man whose wife found out he had been seeing a prostitute. When I interviewed him, he told me the hooker he saw specialized in Bondage and Domination and that she knew more knots than a sailor did. I figured he knew what he was talking about because he was a retired rear-admiral in the navy.”
“Hookers as expert witnesses, huh? For both our sakes, I hope it doesn’t come to that; but if it does, you’ll be the first one I let know.”
I decided to change the subject, “I’ll finish unloading the car; and then, I think I’ll take a look around. It might be a good idea to know where everything is… particularly the bathroom!”
When Rachael didn’t respond, I looked at her to see why. She had found the phone book and was busy searching through it.
There was a phone in the living room. After she’d located what she’d been looking for, Rachael picked up the phone and started dialing.
I could hear it ringing on the other end. A second later, she was talking to someone. While she was busy on the phone, I went out to the car and retrieved the rest of our bags.
After I brought them inside, I started setting up our laptops on the coffee table. About five minutes later, Rachael hung up the phone.
During that time, she’d made two calls.
“Samantha’s said to tell you that things went about how we expected they would in court. Luckily, there were no more surprises. She’s about half way home. She said she’d call about midnight for an update; that is, if we don’t call her first.
Also, the food should be here in an hour. I hope you like Philly steak and cheese sandwiches, French fries and coleslaw.”
I smiled. Steak and cheese sandwiches are one of my favorites. “Great!”
Seemingly satisfied, she stood there deep in thought for a minute. Then said to me…
“I was just thinking. She said we could have free run of the place. Why don’t we figure out how to use that overpriced entertainment system of Vince’s and watch the videos on it? That way we won’t have to spend any more time staring at these tiny laptop screens than I have to.”
I’d gotten so caught up in what I was doing that I had completely forgotten about touring the place.
It was just about the time I deciphered the workings of the entertainment center that our dinner showed up. As you can imagine, all we talked about was the case.
We finished eating, cleaned up the trash; and then, began analyzing the videos.
I had intended to start with the video neither of us had seen. Within seconds, I knew that I must have put in the wrong one by mistake because the image on the screen showed a clear, unobstructed, wide angle view of the bed.
The video we were supposed to be watching had been taken from the television stand at the end of the bed.
“Sorry,” I said to Rachael embarrassingly when I discovered my mistake.
I was in the process of getting up so I could swap it out with the other one when I heard her say, “Let it play. Maybe we’ll see something we missed the first time.”
“Okay.” I said and sat back down.
As I resumed watching, it occurred to me that the images on the screen reminded me a great deal of the late night soft-core porn I occasionally watch on the satellite back home.
There was Vince, lying on his back atop the bed. He appeared to be nude.
Gloria walked in the room, bent down and placed her hands on either side of his head. Then she kissed Vince passionately on the mouth. The kiss lasted for over a minute.
After breaking the kiss, she stood upright and then began slowly undressing until she too was totally nude.
I guess she wasn’t in the mood for foreplay because Gloria wasted no time in climbing on the bed and into a kneeling position over him.
Once there, Gloria, who was facing him, lowered her weight until it looked as if she were sitting, on top of him.
The way I saw it, her legs were straddling his waist and their pelvises were touching.
Were the video from the camera on the dresser the only evidence, as unlikely as it seemed, there might have been a slim chance Samantha could have argued that the couple on the screen had not actually be having sex.
The placement of Gloria’s legs was such that there was really no way to tell if actual penetration was occurring. The logic being, if there was no penetration, then there was no infidelity.
To be quite candid, Samantha would have had a better shot of convincing a motorcycle cop that she just threw up beer vomit on that she hadn’t been drinking!
A half hour later, the video was over.
I looked over at Rachael. For some reason, she had a flushed look on her face.
“Learn anything?” I asked kiddingly.
Rachael giggled and replied, “Besides that fact that Gloria is a screamer? No, not really. You?”
“Yeah, he went to bed with his watch off.” I told her.
puzzled, she inquired, “How is that relevant?”
“It tells me Rossi planned on sleeping when he got into bed that night. A lot of guys who are getting into bed for just a booty call don’t bother taking off their watches. A man will usually take his watch off just before he goes to sleep or prior to getting into the shower.”
I knew what she was thinking. “Don’t go getting your hopes up. That doesn’t really prove anything.”
And the truth was it didn’t. But it did seem to indicate that Rossi might have been telling the truth about why he got into bed in the first place.
I put in the second video and started the player again.
The screen filled with the image of a naked woman, straddling, what appeared to be a naked man.
Because she was leaning forward slightly, I could clearly see in vivid detail every inch of the woman’s wet pussy as she bounced her ample ass up and down on the engorged penis beneath her. Therefore, there was no mistaking which was a man and which was a woman.
Two things dawned on me then. The first was that the way the camera was positioned, the only thing I could see was the back of her head. The second was that her upper body, even though moving, was blocking the face of the man she was erotically coupling.
“This is useless!” I said to her. “I don’t see what Samantha is so worried about.”
It took her a few seconds to respond. When I looked over at her, I realized that her eyes were transfixed, almost hypnotically, on the screen.
Agreeing with me, Rachael said, “Neither do I; she’s blocking the man’s face entirely. In fact, how do we know who she is? This could be a video of anyone.” But then she stopped and exclaimed, “Oh fuck!”
I looked back at the screen and understood immediately why.
Almost as if on cue, the woman on the screen leaned far backwards towards the camera and placed the palms of her hands on the man’s legs just above his knees. In the same motion, she arched her back upwards slightly. Then she tilted her chin high into the air.
In that moment, everything lined up perfectly… his face, her face, the camera. That’s when Rachael and I knew, beyond any doubt, who the two people on the bed were.
The couple on the screen was fucking was indeed Vince Rossi and Gloria Lemons.
I looked at it and exclaimed to Rachael, “Well, there goes the case! The camera doesn’t lie!”
Chapter Three – Ab Inito (From the Beginning)
For the next several hours we sat there watching the videos over and over again.
When that didn’t get us anywhere, I took another DVD player from one of the bedrooms and hooked it up to the television so we could watch the videos side by side in split screen mode.
None of which helped us at all.
For example, one thing we learned was that both videos were definitely two recording of the same event but from two different angles. Another thing was that they were also of such good quality that they equaled any professionally made porn movies I’ve seen. I’d like to say that I am speaking strictly from a photograph point of view, but I can’t. The simple fact is I stayed with a massive hard-on the entire time I was watching them.
By twelve o’clock in the morning, I was tired of sitting there with an erection so I tried to convince Rachael that we were getting nowhere watching the videos.
For some unexplained reason, she seemed hesitant to stop. However, she relented so I wrote off as stubbornness. That’s when we began going over affidavits in the case file and butted heads like a couple of goats.
“I’m telling you, Vince is lying! There’s no way it could have happened the way he said it did.” I told her.
She looked shocked. “What makes you say that?”
Rachael opened her briefcase, took out a notebook and started writing in it.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She looked at me expectantly, “I’m starting a list of your objections.”
That’s my Rachael, organized to a fault.
“We’ve been friends long enough for me to know what Vince is and is not capable of.” I told her candidly.
Rachael conceded, “Alright, I believe you. But, my intuition is telling me that was set up!”
“Even in the face of all that evidence?” I pointed to the coffee table containing the case files. “Sanders, has not one, but two videos. To top it off, he’s also got corroborating testimony from Gloria, who I might add, hasn’t changed her story a bit from day one.” Then a thought occurred to me and I asked, “Hey, you didn’t ask her about it did you”
She laughed, “No, she came to me.”
“Well, what did she say?”
Grimly, Rachael answered, “She denied it. Her whole story seemed rehearsed. I got the feeling that Gloria was trying too hard to convince me she’d slept with Vince.”
“I thought you two are friends? Don’t you think she’d tell you the truth?” I pointed out.
Sourly, Rachael responded, “We were Marty. But, apparently, even friendship has its limits.”
Rachael explained, “Think about it, Marty. Gloria knows that Lilly is an attorney and as such, an officer of the court. If it ever came out that the two of them were in cahoots to defraud Vince out of half the marital estate, the best thing she could hope for is a stiff fine and disbarment. They’d both be facing a hefty prison term for perjury.”
Rachael was right, that was reason enough to keep anybody’s mouth shut.
“So what makes you think Vince is telling the truth?” I asked once more.
With a genuine tone of perplexity in her voice, Rachael replied, “I can’t put my finger on it but there’s something just not right with those videos. The whole thing looks setup, contrived even.”
“I didn’t see anybody holding Vince down. His hands didn’t look tied to me. Remember, the camera doesn’t lie, does it?” I reminded her.
Rachael suggested, “Just because we couldn’t see his hands doesn’t mean they weren’t tied.”
“Do you really think that Vince, a man, was overpowered by Lilly, a woman, and tied to a bed?” I asked.
Then the obvious occurred to me.
“That would mean Lilly is an expert with ropes and knots.
Rachael added, “That plus be a lot stronger than she looks!”
“Hum, is she a dominatrix?”
Laughing, Rachael replied, “Not that I know of; but, it is possible.”
“Possible is not good enough. Tell me how she did it. Explain to me exactly how a woman her size overcame a man and tied him to a bed. After you do that, then you can tell me how Gloria, another woman, molested him.”
Rachael, hesitated a few seconds then said, “I can’t tell you how Lilly tied him up; I don’t know yet. As to how Gloria screwed him, that was the easy part!”
It was the most outrageous thing I’d ever heard. “Easy part? Are you serious?”
“Sure. The hard part was tying him to the bed; the rest was a piece of cake.”
Rachael was silent. I could tell she was thinking.
“The reason you don’t know is because it can’t be done.” I told her. But since I was supposed to be considering all possibilities I said, “But, just for the sake of argument, let’s assume that Lilly did manage to tie Vince up. You still have to explain the erection he had?”
She smiled, “Every heard of messaging the prostate?”
“Isn’t that a myth?”
Rachael laughed, “Nope, it’s a scientific fact.”
‘Where did you learn about that?’ I thought to myself; but, I decided not to ask.
“If Lilly or Gloria had done that to him, why didn’t Vince say anything about it in his affidavit? Better still, why didn’t we see one of them doing it on the video?”
Making eye contact with me, Rachael queried, “How many men do you know would want it to become public knowledge that a woman stuck her finger, or possibly even a foreign object, up their ass? Would you? And, as to why we didn’t see it on the video, it could have occurred before the video started.”
“I see your point. The problem is, in either case, he didn’t say it; we didn’t see it; and, therefore, we can’t prove it. So what’s left?”
Rachael responded, “I don’t know, maybe one of them slipped him a Viagra or something?”
“I didn’t see him swallow anything; did you?” But I knew she hadn’t so I continued, “Even if one of them did, once again, Vince didn’t mention anything about it in his affidavit. So we have no reason to assume otherwise.”
Rachael suggested, “There is another possibility. It might have been a purely a response to physical stimulation. Anyway, there are other ways for a man to get an erection, you know!”
“Like what?” I asked.
Almost seductively, Rachael suggested, “Maybe Vince just simply became aroused when Gloria got on top of him? Tell me; if an attractive, desirable, naked woman started rubbing herself on all over you wouldn’t you get aroused too?”
“No!” I lied.
She looked at me disbelievingly.
So what did I do? Did I confess and tell her the truth. Hell no! I told another lie.
“Take it from me; the only time a man will get aroused is if he wants a woman.”
Without hesitation, Rachael asked, “Is that a fact?”
She laughed and said, “Why don’t I believe you?”
Maybe it was because I was lying through my teeth!
But, I had to say something.
“Let’s assume, again for the sake of argument that you are right and, by some as yet undetermined means, either Lilly or Gloria did manage to “get it up” for him.”
She interrupted, “Or both!”
“Okay. That’s possible, kinky, but possible. I won’t quibble over that one. How do you explain the fact that Vince didn’t just buck her off of Gloria as soon as she climbed on top of him?”
It didn’t surprise me in the least when she said, “Because once she was up there she locked her ankles under his legs.”
“So? I’ve known women who’ve done the same thing. That doesn’t prove anything.” I replied. Then I thought about it and it occurred to me she might be right… at least on that point. Pride, however, kept me from telling her.
Inside, I really didn’t want to admit that Rachael could be right. It just offended my masculinity to think that a woman, any woman, could overpower a man and get that much control over him.
Hoping it would put an end to the debate, I summed it all up for her.
“Just admit it. Vince screwed Gloria; Lilly screwed Vince after she caught them on video. And, Samantha got screwed when she took the case!”
But Rachael wasn’t throwing in the towel, “You’re wrong Marty. There’s more to that video than either of us are seeing. The only explanation I can think of is that Vince is telling the truth!”
“Prove it then. If you can convince me, you can convince a jury.”
Rachael looked at me long and hard before speaking again. Something was going through her mind. Then she said to me, “You really mean that?”
There was an excited, almost devious, tone in her voice.
Then she asked, “I thought men liked to feel in control. If I prove I’m right, wouldn’t you feel as if I was threatening your masculinity? The last thing I want is something to affect our relationship.”
‘What?” I thought to myself, ‘is it me or is she taking this whole thing way too seriously?’ Then I came up with what I thought was a safe response…
“Rachael, don’t worry about it. I trust you. Do whatever it takes.”
Since she seemed happy, I wrote the whole thing off to the fact that she was probably just as tired as I was. ‘After all’, I thought to myself, ‘women can be so emotional at times.’
“Why don’t we figure out whose sleeping where?” I suggested.
She agreed and we began touring the bedrooms.
When we got to the master bedroom, I recognized it immediately from videos we had watched.
No sooner had I opened the door than Rachael said to me, “I’ll take the guest bedroom.”
We hadn’t even stepped into the room yet.
One look at the dresser on the far wall told me why. The entire dresser, including all the little cubbyhole slots built into the mirror, was covered in sex toys of various shapes and sizes. The toys weren’t on the videos because the camera wasn’t aimed in their direction. As you can imagine, it became clear to Rachael and I how Lilly could have hidden the camera in plain sight without it being noticed.
“They are kind of intimidating aren’t they?” I said, kidding her.
Undaunted, Rachael replied, “No, I just thought if you slept here you might develop a new perspective on things.”
I agreed. Then I told Rachael that I was going to take a shower and go to bed.
I brought my bags into the room and set them in the bottom of the closet out of the way. Then I closed the bedroom door and locked it, more out of habit than security. Fifteen minutes later, clean and dry I lay down on the bed. After I turned off the lamp on the nightstand, I tried to go to sleep.
According to the clock on the nightstand, it was 2:15 in the morning and even though I was tired, I couldn’t sleep.
Lying there in the dark, I had time to reflect on the day’s events and began wishing that I hadn’t been so stubbornly argumentative with Rachael. She was the last person in the world I wanted to hurt.
I knew that lately I had been becoming increasingly frustrated with myself for not having the courage to tell her how I felt about her. The reason was that I was afraid she might not feel the same way about me.
But now that it was beginning to affect our working relationship, I had to do something.
“Time to man up!” I said to myself and made my decision.
In the morning, I would apologize to her; and, no matter what the consequences were, tell her how I really felt.
It was like a weight being lifted from my mind and immediately I began to relax. Soon after that, I started drifting off to sleep; and, a hazy image began unfolding before me.
When it became clearer, I could see Gloria repeatedly taking Vince’s love muscle deep inside her moist womanhood. She was moaning wantonly like a banshee in heat. Vince, who was bound both hand and foot to the bed, was an unresisting prisoner of her desires.
As she continued ridding him, I drifted further and further into the realm of unconsciousness and my erotic dream.
Then, as if by magic, I was teleported onto the bed underneath her. When I gazed up at her, Gloria looked me straight in the eyes as if nothing had happened and proceeded feverishly riding my erect member. ‘My God’, I thought to myself, ‘this stranger is fucking me!’ and rather than succumb to my desires I tried to throw her off me. But I could not, my wrist were tied to the headboard.
Confused, in my mind, part of me wanted to resist and part of me didn’t.
Half halfheartedly, I attempted to roll over, hoping to tumble her off the bed but soon discovered I could not. My ankles were, as I said, were likewise bound to the foot-board.
It wasn’t so much the desire to escape, as the frustration of my failed attempt, that caused me to try to buck Gloria off of me again. Desperately, I pushed my hips as hard I could high into the air. That too failed when as soon as I raised my hips, Gloria simply moved her ankles beneath my legs and locked herself into position atop me.
When I realized that all my efforts to escape did was aid her in fucking me by driving my rigid member deeper inside her, I stopped moving completely.
The longer it went on, the more pleasurable it became. As the pleasure increased, so too did my confusion. Was I being assaulted, tormented, or ravished?
As I was trying to make up my mind, again as if by magic, Gloria disappeared to be replaced by another. It was Rachael!
When that happened, all doubt disappeared. I wanted this. I wanted her. Even if Rachael tied me to a bed and mercilessly fucked me like a mad woman; I wanted her!
This, however, was not to be. Just when I was about to begin thrusting myself into her, like an unwelcome interloper, the dark void of dreamless sleep came to me.
What I had, at first, thought to be a nightmare had turned into the most erotic, if not disappointing, dream of my life!
And so I slept.
Sometime later, I was awakened out of a sound sleep when I felt my wrists being pulled to the bedposts at the head of the bed. Since I had been lying on my right side, I was forced to roll over onto my back as my right arm went towards the headboard.
‘Was this a dream or was it real?’ I asked myself.
Immediately I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw just before being pulled completely onto my back was the dim red glow of the digital clock on the nightstand. It was 6:30 in the morning and still pitched black outside.
What light there was in the room came from the LED from the alarm clock and the now cracked open doorway. There was a nightlight in the hallway just outside my room.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” I exclaimed and began thrashing about on the bed only to find that there was something wrapped around each of my ankles.
Again I asked myself, ‘Is this a dream?’
Then, for a split second, I caught sight of a figure moving in the darkness towards the foot of the bed. I felt something tugging at my ankles, pulling them in the direction of the foot-board and they too were bound unmovable. The whole process of tying me up couldn’t have taken more than five seconds. What’s more, the speed at which I had been tied up was fast that all I could do was I lay there in shock. Once the initial shock wore off, I began spouting obscene threats of violence at whoever was in the room with me.
When the light came on revealing my attacker, I could not have been more surprised. Half thinking it was all a dream, I was actually expecting to see Lilly Rossi or Gloria Lemons or both standing over me. The last person in the world I expected to see was Rachael!
And then something told me that it was all very real!
Chapter Four – Disjunctive Allegations
Have you ever heard the old adage that a picture is worth a thousand words? Well, if that’s true, then a demonstration has to be worth a million.
Marty had been a little too argumentative the night before and I decided it would take more than just argument to convince him who was right. So I thought to myself, ‘What better way than a live demonstration?’
If he wanted proof, I was going to give it to him.
Once his eyes now adjusted to the light, Marty could see me. You should have seen the look on his face. I don’t know what surprised him more, the fact that I was standing there, or the way I was dressed.
You see, while he had been sleeping, I had changed into a pair of red boy-shorts and matching sports bra. I keep them in my workout bag for those times when I’m on the road and want to exercise in my hotel room. I learned the hard way not to wear them in public.
They’re a wee bit risque for that. Not that I care, but it’s kind of difficult to maintain a professional reputation when people you know professionally make ‘Beaver Run’ jokes after seeing you jogging on the treadmill at the gym.
^p^perhaps I better explain. That particular little ensemble of sportswear shows every, and I do mean every, curve of my body in almost pornographic detail. Unfortunately, they were the only things I had that were tight fitting enough to allow me to move around without making a sound.
All of which explains why when Marty saw me dressed that way, he lay there silently for several seconds with drool practically running out of his mouth.
He turned red in the face when he realized I could see what he was doing and tried to cover up by asking, “Rachael, are you out of your ever loving mind? How did you get in here? I had the door locked.”
“I picked it with the filler from a ballpoint pen.” I answered, ignoring his question about my mental state. I wasn’t so sure about that myself!
perplexed, he asked, “But how?”
“There’s a safety feature built into the locks installed in most houses. It’s a hole about a sixteenth of in inch located on the doorknob.”
I went to the door.
“See, on this side is the lock,” I opened the door, “On this side is the hole. It’s there in case you lock yourself out of an interior room. All you have to do is stick something rigid in there and push until you hear a click.” I demonstrated by pressing the button on the doorknob locking the door. Then I shoved the pen filler in the hole on the other side until I heard a clicking sound. Immediately the button popped out indicating that the door was unlocked. “See?”
Astonished, Marty exclaimed, “Well I’ll be damned! I never knew that.”
Anticipating what his next question would be. I explained…
“My little brother locked himself in his bedroom when I was babysitting him once. I had to call the fire department to get him out. A fireman showed me. So are you convinced yet?”
Either Marty didn’t understand the question of he was playing dumb because he asked, “Convinced of what?”
“That it is possible for a woman can overpower a man!” I replied triumphantly.
As Marty struggled with his bonds, he asked, “Couldn’t you have made your point some other way?”
“You’re the one who said prove it to you, remember? And no, I couldn’t. Anyway, you still haven’t answered my question.”
Marty said nothing. Instead, he began struggling with his bonds trying to free himself. But I had done a really good job of tying him up. Amused, I stood there and watched him. After about half a minute or so, he appeared to gave up.
Frustrated he said to me, “Alright, you’ve made your point. It is possible for a woman to overpower a man. You can untie me now.
But that still doesn’t prove that Lilly had the knowledge or skills to do the same thing to Vince. Does it? While you’re untying me, you can tell me where did you learned to tie these damn knots anyway?”
“Don’t go anywhere.” I said, then laughed and headed out the door.
As I left the room, he called to me, “Hey, wait a minute; aren’t you going to untie me.”
“Not just yet. I’m not through with my demonstration.”
The sound of the bed shaking half way down the hall told me he was trying to get loose again. He stopped long enough to yell to me, “At least tell me where you are going?”
“Don’t worry; I’ll be back in a minute and answer all your questions!” I said reassuringly. The bed began squeaking again telling me he was trying again to get loose. “You might not want to struggle against those ropes too much. Those are slipknots. The more you pull on them, the tighter they become!”
I went to the bedroom, picked up, and emptied my suitcase on the bed. Then I took the suitcase into the living room and filled it with items I knew I’d need in order to continued the demonstration.
The spring in my step indicated that I was really was enjoying what I was doing.
When I reentered the room carrying my suitcase, Marty ceased his attempts to free himself and said, “What do you have there?”
I didn’t respond but rather sat it down on the bed and opened the suitcase.
“The list, remember? And I’ve got a few pieces of evidence.” I removed the list of his objections I had made from the suitcase and held it up for him to see.
He didn’t say anything.
“Let me start from the beginning,” I said and began showing Marty some of the certificates I’d discovered in the living room, “After you went to bed, I went over the file again and then watched both videos a few more times. Well, just like before, I didn’t find anything useful. But then I got tired and decided to take a break. So I put on a pot of coffee; and, while I was waiting for the pot to finish, I decided to look at that shrine to outdoor life they call a living room.
That’s when I figured out who the great outdoors-man in the family really is.
I’ll bet when you walked in the door and saw all that junk on the walls you thought the same thing I did and that Vince, being the man, was the great white hunter. Am I right?”
“That’s what I thought too. Well, brace yourself. We were both wrong. Vince isn’t the one who loves the outdoors; Lilly is. Vince is just what he looks like, a city boy.”
His jaw dropped open. One by one, I began showing him the certificates I’d placed in my suitcase.
“It gets better. Not only is she an expert fisherman, hunter, marksman and mountaineer, but she’s also been a scoutmaster for the last twenty years. That means that is she skilled enough with knots to be qualified to teach them. Ergo, even if she’s not an expert, which the evidence indicates she is, Lilly most definitely has the skills and experience needed to tie somebody up quickly.”
After I finished showing them to him, I placed the certificates carefully back in my suitcase. Next, I retrieved three books I removed from the bookshelf in the living room and held them up for him to see.
“Now to answer you second question as to where I learned to tie those knots holding you. I found the knots in these books.” I waved them back and forth dramatically. “I found the books on the bookshelf in the living room.” One was a book entitled ‘Outdoor Survival’; the second was the ‘The Scoutmaster’s Handbook’, and the last was a book dedicated entirely to the use of ropes and knots entitled ‘Knots and Ropes and Their Uses’. “And in case you’re wondering who they belong to, they’re Lilly’s. I know that because her name is stamped in the flyleaf of every one of them.”
“There are plenty of knots in these books that could have used. Once I found one that would do what I needed, it took me less than fifteen minutes to figure out how to tie it. I used the shoe laces from my running shoes for that. The next thing I had to do was determine exactly where to place the ropes and how to secure them. That’s when I decided to make a late night trip to Wal-mart to buy some rope and a few other things. We’ll expense that later. Anyway, after I got back from Wal-mart, I used the bed in my room to figure that out exactly where to tie the ropes. Since both beds are similar, it only took thirty minutes more practice for me to feel confident enough to try it out on you.” I paused, and then said boastfully, “By the way, tying you up was a lot easier than I expected it would be.”
Marty’s reaction was simply to stare at me in disbelief.
“Need more convincing?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
“I take it that is a yes then?” Again there was no answer. So, I looked at the list, then put the books back into my suitcase and began taking out items and laying them on the bed.
Curiously, Marty asked, “What are you going to do with those?”
He was referring to the two home video cameras I had just placed on the bed next to him. I had picked them up also during my late night shopping spree at Wal-mart.
“You said the camera doesn’t lie. Maybe it doesn’t; but I can prove that sometimes it doesn’t tell the whole truth. Want to find out if I’m right?”
If he had said no, I would have stopped there. Since I was having fun, I was thrilled when he replied, “You’ve got yourself a captive audience. Proceed.”
I laid my notepad and pen over on the dresser; and, then I closed my suitcase and placed it out of sight in the hall.
Returning to the bedroom, I picked up the cameras and checked the batteries in each to make sure they were fully charged.
Next, I turned the LCD viewfinders on each camera around so that images being recorded could be seen from the front of the camera. Then, I made my best guess as to where Lilly had placed her cameras and put mine in the same positions on the dresser and television.
I was lucky to find that the store had in stock not a long a video output cable for the camera I put in the closet. I connected the camera’s output to the plasma television. Then I switched on the television and selected the input for the camera under the television.
It took a few adjustments but I finally got the field of view of each camera looking almost exactly the same as they were in Lilly’s videos. That accomplished, I carefully turned both camera’s viewfinders around so they were facing the bed.
Meanwhile, Marty, who seemed intrigued by my activity, waited quietly. I guess he wanted to see what I was going to do next.
As I headed towards my notepad, he broke his silence, “Now what?”
“Now we go down the list.” I replied.
“You said, ‘I didn’t see anybody holding Vince down. His hands didn’t look tied to me’.”
“Let’s see if you’re right.” I said as I approached the head of the bed.
Once there, I reached behind him with my left hand and pulled the pillow from behind his head.
“It would be easier for both of us if you raised your head. Vince might not have been given that choice; or, they could have just pulled him up by his hair. How do you want to do this, the easy way or the hard way?”
Deciding to take the easy way, Marty raised his head. When he did, I gently placed the pillow under his head and then stepped back so he could see the camera on the dresser. He looked at it and then at the television.
“Do you see any ropes?” I asked.
Stubbornly, her replied, “No, but that still doesn’t prove anything. They couldn’t be seen if they weren’t there either.”
“But I’ve made my point. While the camera might not lie, it also doesn’t necessarily tell the truth either. Does it?”
Begrudgingly, he conceded the point and I moved on.
“Now what was it you said next?” I looked at the notepad again. “Oh yes, here it is…
‘How, then, do you explain the erection Vince had?’ and I then said, ‘Have you ever heard of messaging the prostate?’ Look over at the dresser. I’ll bet I can find something over there that could get a rise out of you!” Then to prove my point, I walked over to it and picked up the biggest vibrator I could find. It was at least eighteen inches long and two and a half inches wide. “Do you feel adventurous enough to find out?”
Marty tensed up suddenly. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“No! I wouldn’t,” I confessed, “and I seriously doubt they did either.” I confessed, and then put the oversized phallic back on the dresser.
“But, no pun intended, that brings to the next item on the list.”
“When I suggested that one of them gave him something you said, ‘I didn’t see him swallow anything.’” I reached into my pocket and produced small plastic bottle half full of red syrupy liquid.
“Do you know what this is?” I held it up him to see it.
He examined it, laughed and then said mockingly, “Spanish Fly! You’re joking; right? That stuff doesn’t work.”
“One thing I can tell you is that somebody living in this house thinks that it does. I found this bottle in the kitchen cabinet. There were eight others just like it there. They were on the same shelf with the coffee, tea, and soda. Unless I miss my guess, somebody’s been mixing it with the soda to hide the taste.”
As I saw the pillow move, indicating to me that Marty was trying his ropes again; he said to me, “What makes you say that?”
“This particular brand of Spanish Fly just happens to come in three flavors: cola, cherry and, my personal favorite, strawberry. Want to take a guess what flavors of soda were in the cabinet next to it?”
Marty looked up as if in thought, then answered, “They wouldn’t they be cola, cherry and strawberry by any chance would they?”
“Good answer!” I said excitedly.
Being argumentative again, Marty insisted, “That still doesn’t prove anything. Maybe they just bought it and haven’t had a chance to use it yet?”
“Nope, somebody’s used it. Or, do you have a better explanation as to why this bottle was a quarter empty when I found it?”
Avoiding my question, Marty said, “Alright, I’ll concede that point. But let’s assume for a moment that you are right. If Gloria gave it to him, how did she do it without the camera seeing? For that matter, you also haven’t proved to me that it works.”
“I’m not sure it does. But, but there is a way we can find out. You can try some while I show you how she got him to drink it?” Of course, he could always say no! But something told me Marty wouldn’t.
Looking skeptical, he replied, “Go ahead. But don’t be surprised when it doesn’t have any effect on me.”
The instructions were printed in tiny find print on the bottle and it only took me a second or so to read them. I unscrewed the cap on the bottle and then said…
“You sure you want to do this? I don’t know what this stuff could do to you!”
Marty grinned and challenged me, “If it were dangerous, it wouldn’t be on the market. Besides, my guess is nothing at all. Just in case though, promise me you won’t start laughing if it does.”
“I think I can handle it.”
He laughed, “Very funny!”
“Okay, here we go!” I told him and then began lifting the bottle to my mouth.
Seeing what I was doing, Marty cried out, “Hey, I thought I was supposed to drink that. What gives?”
“Just watch and learn!”
Then, I poured a quarter of the small bottle’s content into my mouth. I hadn’t intended to drink any myself; but, most of it went straight down my throat. It was bitter. Since there was still some left in my mouth, I bent down over Marty in the same manner that Gloria had over Vince in the video. Then, I placed my hands on each side of his face. Using my thumbs, I gently pressed on his nostrils until he was forced to open his mouth for air. When he did, I placed my mouth firmly upon his and opened my lips. The remaining liquid in my mouth went straight into his. I released my thumbs and instinctively, Marty swallowed and then took in several deep breaths through his nostrils.
When our mouths parted, there were a few drops running from the right side of Marty’s mouth. He must have felt them because he said to me, “Better not leave any on my lips; it’ll show up on camera.”
There was a sly grin on his face.
“You’re right. I hadn’t thought about that.”
I was about to reach up and wipe them off when he added, “I didn’t see her do that in the video.”
“Then how did she…” I started to say but the answer came to be before I finished. Meanwhile, I thought to myself, ‘Oh, so you want to play. Is that it Marty? Okay, I’ll play with you!’
“I’ll bet this is what she did.” I said and began using my tongue to lick the liquid from his lips.
Needless to say, it was definitely a turn on. I was about to stop, when out of nowhere, a wave of what I can only describe as burning desire swept over me. In less than two seconds I went from Luke warm to burning hot. My head was spinning; and, to top it off, I had suddenly developed an itch between my legs that was demanded to be scratched.
The first thing that I thought was, ‘Wow! Is it hot in here or is it me?’ because it seemed to be getting very hot in the room.
The second thing was, ‘Where did that itching come from?’
Yes, I knew where it was. But didn’t know at the time what had started it.
I was so surprised that I stopped immediately and to regain my composure so I could get back to my demonstration. I might have been successful had Marty not said as soon as I broke contact, “Sure you got it all? You wouldn’t want to leave any behind for the camera.”
‘Like that, did you?’ I asked mentally.
“Maybe I better try again?” I said and then kissed him squarely on the mouth.
‘I know what you’re doing Marty!’ I thought to myself as we kissed. ‘But do you know what a can of worms you are opening up by doing it?’
Yes, I knew what he was doing. Of that you can be sure. The big question is did I know what I was doing? The answer is yes. I did. I had some self-control left; though not much. I could have stopped. I didn’t want to. But I could have and almost did. Although for the life of me, I don’t know why.
But when his lips parted and our tongues began to intertwine as we kissed passionately, the thought fled from me and I became even more aroused. And, as my arousal increased, so did the itching between my legs.
My heart, which had been racing wildly, slowed a bit as I broke the kiss. When it did, again reality crept its ugly head back in. I took a few deep breaths and instantly, my head started to clear long enough for me to hear Marty’s voice saying, “Like I said, what are you going to do if the stuff doesn’t work?”
Desperately I tried to concentrate. ‘Think damn it! What were you going to do next? Oh yes, the list! Go down the list!’
And then an argument broke out in my head between what I can best describe as ‘Horny Me’ and ‘Professional Me’.
‘Fuck the list! I want to fuck Marty!’ Horny Me said.
Then Professional Me said, ‘You’re not supposed to be fucking Marty, dumb-ass. You’re supposed to going down the list!’
‘Hey, maybe we can do both?’ Horny Me suggested.
But then Professional Me took charge and ordered, ‘Stop acting like a cougar. You know you can’t do both! Show a little self-control and just go down the damn list like you’re supposed to!’
‘But I don’t want to! Aren’t you even tempted just a little?’ Horny Me said defiantly.
Finally, Professional Me ended the argument when she said, ‘Of course I am. But I know how to control myself. Now stop arguing with me and do as you’re told!’
And so, for the time being, it looked as if Professional Me had won.
“Before I answer that, I have a few questions for you. Tell me, do you still think that having a desirable naked female rubbing on your pelvis wouldn’t arouse you?”
And somewhere in my brain I heard the words, ‘Say yes. Marty, say yes!’ It was Horny Me talking.
Marty grinned, “Never happen!”
‘That’s the same thing! Isn’t it?’ Horny Me asked to which Professional Me replied, ‘Yes! Now shut up I’m trying to think!’
“And do you still contend that the only way a man will get aroused is if he wants a woman?” I asked.
He smiled and said, “That’s right!”
Without saying a word, I peeled off my sports bar and stood there nude from the waist up. As I did, thought to myself, “Tell me Marty, do you think I’m desirable?” I baited him.
After which Professional Me demanded, ‘Hey, what are you doing?’
‘Just trying to find out how much; that’s all.’ said Horny Me slyly.
Marty stared in disbelief and Professional Me said to Horny Me, ‘You shouldn’t have done that. Look at him. What are you going to do if he doesn’t like what he sees?’
‘There’s only one way to find out.’ Horny Me informed.
Confused, Professional Me asked, ‘How’s that?’
‘We’ll just have to show him the whole package.’ Answered Horny Me.
And then, before Profession Me could protest, I took off my boy-shorts and I stood there now totally naked before him revealing that I had nothing on under them.
Indignantly, Professional Me chastised, ‘Now you’ve done it! Look at him! He thinks we’re so ugly that he’s gone speechless!’
‘Bet you’re wrong!’ insisted Horny Me.
To which Professional Me retorted, ‘Bet I’m right!’
‘All right, let’s ask him.’ They said together
“Well, tell me Marty, do you think I’m desirable?”
Finding his voice, he replied, “Yes. Very desirable.”
^p^professional Me said doubtingly, ‘Maybe he’s just saying that because he doesn’t want to hurt our feelings?’
“How do I know you’re not just flattering me?” I asked.
Nervously, he replied, “Trust me, you are.”
^p^professional Me wasn’t satisfied.
“I don’t believe you. What proof do you have?” I said teasingly.
Embarrassed, he answered, “You know I can’t prove that!”
‘But I can. All I have to do is pull the sheet off of him so we can both see.’ Suggested Horny Me. But Professional Me was frightened, ‘Wait! Don’t do that! I don’t want to know.’
‘Trust me. I know what I’m doing.’ Horny Me responded.
“I don’t believe you. Maybe I better see for myself?” And then, before he could say anything, in one motion I pulled the sheet off him exposing his now semi-rigid member.
‘Do you believe me now? I told you he likes us!’ Asked Horny Me.
Unconvinced, Professional Me said, ‘That doesn’t prove anything. He’s not even completely hard.’ Even so, she couldn’t take her eyes off the thing.
If that wasn’t bad enough, to make matters worse, the itching between my legs had become so powerful that I really had to fight to take my eyes off of his penis.
Grinning, Marty demanded, “Satisfied?”
“Not even!” I blurted out without thinking and then tried to cover-up my blunder by looking back at the list. Then added, “But, for the sake of argument, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.”
In the mean time, the voices in my head were still talking.
‘Stop drooling! You act as if you never seen one before.’ It was Horny Me.
Like a kid with her hands in the cookie jar, Professional Me replied, ‘I’m not drooling! Am I?’
‘No but you might as well be. Now stop distracting me. I’m trying to think here.’ Horny Me insisted.
“Where was I? Oh yes! I remember now. I’ll ask you again…” I said as I threw the clipboard onto the floor and climbed onto the bed next to him. But, I didn’t stop there; instead, I continued climbing until I was on top of him and my hips were straddling his. Then, I lowered my weight slowly downward until our sexes meet each other.
The contact was electric.
“Do you really think that having a naked woman rubbing herself on you isn’t enough to get you aroused?” I asked.
Stubbornly, he replied, “That’s right.”
‘Does he really think we’re that stupid?’ The two voices chorused.
“Really? Then I guess you won’t mind proving it to me. Would you?” I didn’t give him a chance to answer. Instead, I began moving my hips to and fro. And each time my sex rubbed the full length of his hardening penis my clit tingled.
Within seconds, as if coming to life, his manhood began growing harder beneath me.
‘Now are you convinced that he likes us? Do you still want to go down the list?’ demanded Horny Me.
‘What list? Who cares about the list? I want to play a little.’
I pushed myself up into a kneeling position and the itching became stronger.
“So, this isn’t doing anything for you huh?” I said as I continued massaging his manhood with my sex. And thought to myself, ‘Then why are you resisting so much?’
There was a look of utter disbelief on his face.
When he didn’t respond, I quickened the pace of my movements. I’m sure he didn’t know it at the time, but I probably would have no matter how he had responded.
My conscious mind I knew I was enjoying the friction his cock was creating way too much; but, my loins were on fire and I couldn’t seem to stop myself. With each movement I made, his love muscle became harder and harder. It wasn’t long before it was fully erect.
Confused, Professional me said, ‘I don’t know what to do now. I really didn’t think it would get this far. Do you have any ideas?’
‘Why don’t you just keep going down the list and see what happens?’ Horny Me suggested.
So that’s what I did.
“You said, ‘how do you explain the fact that he didn’t just buck her off of him as soon as she climbed on top of him?” I asked through quickening breaths. “We’ll I’m on top of you; go ahead, get me off!”
I looked down at him for his reaction. He just stared back up at me.
All the while I was rubbing myself against him I was getting closer and closer to orgasm.
‘You know we’re getting close to the point of no return, don’t you?’ Horny Me asked.
But Professional Me was silent. She was having too much fun.
“Well, what are you waiting for? What’s stopping you? Try to get me off!” I insisted and then added tauntingly, “Or can’t you do it?”
Grinning, Marty said proudly, “Oh, I can get you off alright! But be careful what you ask for; you might just get it!”
“Then do it! Get me off!”
Without saying another word, he started bucking his hips up and down forcefully. He had a lot of strength in his legs and several times I was thrown upwards so hard that I almost did get tossed off of both him and the bed. Several times during his attempts, I actually felt the head of his cock go past my inner labia and almost into th