"Mr. Kisaragi, my severance check is in the mail. Once it comes in, I can pay the rent in full!"
"No, Tom. You live in this apartment for months, you pay for it! I'm making it easy for you. I let you have extra time to pay and you still can't pay. No money tomorrow, no apartment! No money, and you leave. But you still pay for living here. I know people who can make you pay."
Once Kisaragi slammed the front door of the complex, the woman standing next to Tom hugged him and broke out in tears.
"I wish I was back home, Tom. Why did we move so far away?" she asked.
"It's okay, Jean, I'll try to talk to him again."
"He sounded like he was part of the mob or something, threatening to make us pay. I think he's serious about this."
"Okay, but he's gotta understand--" Tom was cut off by a strange man tapping his shoulder. He put out the cigarette he had been smoking under the awning of the building next door.
The stranger had introduced himself as Mr. White and offered to pay off their debt as well as the next month's rent. The price for this lunch, he explained, would be an hour with his wife. Mr. White let them discuss it in private.
Tom stalled, reminding her "Marriage is a sacrament, Jean!" He was unsettled by her quick acceptance of the proposition, but he had no other solutions. As Jean said, this was preferable to living on the street running from whatever goons Kisaragi might send after them. Tom eventually broke down, unable to find an alternative to White's offer. Jean said they could be forgiven because of their predicament, but Tom wondered how long it would take. She also tried to take the blame for their problems, scolding herself for overspending on frivolous things – dresses, yoga class, cutlery. He stared into her eyes, seeing nothing but sadness, and he knew his eyes must have looked the same to her.
"Hey, you always tell me how guys don't connect love and sex, right?" she asked.
"Yeah, but that's other guys. You know what I think," Tom replied.
"Well, try to think of it that way now. It doesn't mean anything. I'm just gonna get him off real quick and it's done. Then we've got our money."
"He could be some sick psycho fuck – I mean, he is, doing this to us. But he could be dangerous," said Tom.
"Get the gun."
"That's what I was thinking."
"It'll be all over soon, sweetie. Just one hour, that's it. I'll make sure it's the worst sex he's ever had." Jean kissed his forehead down to his nose to reassure him, something they had done since they started going out. Mr. White approached and cleared his throat.
Tom took a box from the closet and popped the clips open. The Colt Single Action that his grandfather had given him sat inside. Just looking at it made his churning stomach settle a bit.
By the time he opened the door to the bedroom, the two had already started. Jean stood shirtless, her pants undone. White pulled on one of her belt loops and her pants joined her shirt on the floor. He wrapped his arms around her, tonguing her like a desperate schoolboy. She reluctantly allowed him to probe her mouth, standing still as a statue until they moved onto the bed. Tom sat down in the chair next to the bed and placed the gun behind the nightstand outside of White's vision.
White removed his tongue from Jean's mouth. "The more your wife takes off, the more beautiful she looks. Say, why don't you undo her bra for us?"
"It's okay, I can do it," she said, reaching for the clasp.
"No," White said forcefully. "Your husband will do it if he remembers who has the money here."
Tom sighed, slowly reached for the clasp, and popped it open. White spoke: "Good, now get rid of it." Tom pushed the straps off her shoulders and threw the bra on the floor. Helping White undress his wife wasn't part of the agreement. What next, he wondered. Will he ask for Jean to be served to him on a decorative platter?
"Your wife has an amazing set, Tom. I can't imagine how you can keep your hands off these things for more than an hour at a time," White said as he groped her chest rather obnoxiously. His mouth soon followed, his lips clamping around her nipples.
Tom's prick gave a little jump. He scolded himself silently for the arousal that had bubbled up into his loins. It was Jean, that was all. He could never stay soft around her when she was nude, whether or not some other bastard was running his dirty little fingers all over her and suckling her breasts as if they were his property.
After a few minutes, they stood up and White directed her to disrobe him. She matter-of-factly pulled his shirt and pants off. He pushed her to her knees while she pulled the waistband of his tented boxers. White gave Jean her next command once his fully erect member came into view. She wrapped her breasts around it and stroked up and down.
"It's hard to find a pair that'll give you a real quality titfuck, eh?" White said. "I bet you love doing this to guys, don't you, Jean?"
"Y-yes," she stuttered.
"You don't have to answer him, Jean," said Tom.
"Your wife just wanted to be polite, right, Jean? I know you'd rather not be getting me off right now. I want you to be open and honest about what you're thinking and feeling from now on, okay?" White stroked her hair and Jean froze for a moment as if in a trance, then resumed squeezing her breasts around his cock. "What do you think, Jean?"
"You're a sick, twisted motherfucker who takes advantage of whoever you can. I wanna cut that gross little dick of yours off!" She paused. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry, I can't believe I just said that. You...you'll still give us the money, right?"
White smiled. "It's okay, Jean. I told you to be honest, so you were. That's all I wanted, I don't need you to act for me. All right, why don't we get you ready for the main event."
White and Jean sat on the edge of the bed, then White looked over at Tom, who was festering in the corner. "Hey, we can play together for a little bit. Come sit on the bed."
Tom did so cautiously, wondering what White was scheming. White continued to give instructions: "I'll work on her lips while you rub her clit. Now, take her panties off and spread her legs for me." Tom played along again, moved next to Jean, and pulled her panties down to her knees. White took them the rest of the way and threw them on the floor as Tom pried his wife's legs apart. Fingers ran over her skin and darted toward her pussy, each one following White's instructions.
"How does it feel to have two men working on you at once?" asked White.
"You're not gonna get me off, White. Pieces of shit like you don't get me wet. It'll be like fucking sandpaper and you'll wonder why you spent so much money for it."
Tom smiled at how mouthy Jean had become. Of course, it didn't help White's cause that Tom had been keeping his fingers as far away from Jean's clit as possible without being noticed.
"That's because Mr. Amateur over here doesn't know how to please a girl. If you want something done right...." White removed Tom's hand, then thrust his head in between her legs and lapped at her lips. She gave a quiet grunt of surprise as his tongue swirled around her clit. Her head pressed hard into Tom's leg. White's thrusts intensified in tandem with Jean's moans. Wetness spread across her lips.
"No, stop," Jean whispered. Redness crept across her face – she had vowed not to enjoy this. But this Mr. White seemed to know just what turned her on, as if he had been her lover for ages.
"Don't you enjoy sex, honey? Don't you love when a man brings you to heaven with his tongue?"
"I made a promise – to Tom and myself – I wouldn't feel anything, and I definitely wouldn't cum."
"Jean—" Tom snapped in surprise.
"Oh, sorry, I don't why I told him that, I just keep—" her sentence was cut off by another groan.
"Sex is to be enjoyed, Jean. I think you should reconsider that promise." White resumed licking after he was done speaking.
Jean grabbed Tom's hand and squeezed. "We'll make it through this. It'll be all over soon." Tom stared at her face in his lap, looking with horror at the effect White was having on her. She was getting more and more aroused. It felt as if she were experiencing true sexual pleasure for the first time. Whatever White was doing to her produced the most intense feeling she had ever experienced. Holding back was becoming more difficult by the second. All the signs pointed in the same direction – her nipples stood all the way out, her skin was flushed, and her moaning was only getting louder. It wouldn't be long.
"Please, stop," she tried to plea. Her words were now punctuated with breathy sighs. "I'm wet enough to fuck. Just don't make me break my promise. Don't make me cum."
"Yes, that's it. Let us know what you're thinking," White said.
Jean squirmed around in her husband's lap, still begging. Some sort of ominous feeling took hold of her and she shivered. She couldn't tell what, but she began to feel that something terrible would happen if she gave in. It seemed as if the more aroused she became, the more she wanted to do exactly as White said. And White had already somehow made her think out loud. Something wasn't right here. It wasn't just about the promise, it was fear of what White intended, and what he could do.
"Please, don't make me cum. I'm a good girl. I love my husband. Please don't make me cum!"
"Don't talk like that. It'll only encourage him," said Tom.
"Sorry, it's just—" She squeezed his hand harder as she moaned. "I don't think I can hold back anymore, baby. It's so fucking good. I've never felt anything like this."
"Just try, honey." Tom rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, trying to use that contact to remind her who she loved. She continued babbling in her fits of pleasure, her words degenerating into grunts. No one could try hard enough – it was like trying to block an overflowing dam with nothing but your bare hands.
"I'm trying...it's too –" Jean let out a series of yelps as one part of her body writhed in Tom's lap and another did against White's lips. Tom stroked her arm as if trying to comfort her, but it only added to the orgasm that tore through her body. Once the whole thing slowed to a halt, White looked up from between Jean's legs.
"Your wife looks like she's ready to make love now," said White as he rolled her over and pulled her up by the hips.
"I'm – I'm sorry, Tom. I just couldn't help it. I still love you." The ecstasy in her eyes had turned to regret as she slid toward White.
"It's okay, honey, I know," said Tom, trying to reassure her. "I love you too."
"How sweet," White remarked, moving Jean's hips upward so he could take her from behind. The head of his engorged member now prodded her lips.
"Hey, put that condom on first!" Tom yelled at White, pointing to a square wrapper on the nightstand.
"Okay, boss, but that wasn't part of the deal, so you'll have to do it yourself if you want me to wear it that bad." White got off the bed and walked over to Tom, getting close enough so his penis throbbed right in Tom's face, nearly poking him in the eye.
"Get that outta my face, I ain't touching that!"
"Fine, use your wife's hand then, or we're doing it in the raw." White tore open the wrapper and stuffed the condom into Jean's hand. Tom cursed himself for not setting up any clear stipulations in this contract.
"Honey, just listen to him, make things easier. I'm not doing this without protection."
Tom groaned and then grudgingly took Jean's hand in his, moving it toward White's prick. She took care of the finer motions required to fit the condom around his head while Tom pushed her hand forward so that the rubber stretched down his shaft. The two hands pressed forward until the condom was fully unfurled. White quickly grabbed the hands before they retracted and forced them up and down his shaft rapidly so that Jean's hand was jerking him. Tom didn't even have time to react until White pulled away after a few violent strokes.
"Glad to see you're so willing to help us make love, Tom."
"Yeah, do you want me to thrust your hips for ya too?"
White laughed as he took position behind Jean again. Tom still didn't know what to make of the fact that he had just stroked White's dick, even if it was by the proxy of his wife's hand. White must have reveled in humiliating him almost as much as he did in fucking his wife.
Jean let out a moan as White's dick slipped into her with no resistance. She resented the fact that she was still turned on and was now dripping onto his member, but she realized that she was helpless at this point. White was unreal, as if he possessed some kind of sexual magic.
"It's okay, baby. Not much longer," she told Tom. He glanced at his watch. Goddamn, still half an hour of this shit left. As White thrust into her, she leaned forward to give Tom a peck on the cheek. It felt unconvincing, like a timid goodnight kiss after an awkward date.
The thrusts increased in speed until the sound of skin slapping against skin. That overwhelmed expression Jean had worn when White ate her out returned and she started letting out little yelps of pleasure again. She was propping herself up using Tom's leg, her hands rubbing up and down his thigh with each of White's thrusts. The arousal that had left Tom's loins when he had put the condom on White began to return. Watching Jean get hammered while her hands stroked his legs so close to his crotch caused him to swell. Tom was about to move when White hit Jean with a particularly strong thrust, causing her to yell and bury her face in Tom's lap. Her mouth enveloped the bulge in his pants.
"Oh my god, are you hard?" asked Jean.
"It's not – I just – it's a physical reaction!" Tom yelled. It was, in fact, intriguing and arousing to see what his wife looked like having sex from an outside perspective. However, he wanted nothing more than to go soft. Enjoying this would mean becoming part of White's sick game.
"Oh, that's good, Tom, you're enjoying yourself. That's great. No reason why this shouldn't be fun for all of us. Don't leave the guy hanging, Jean. Give him a little something so he doesn't feel left out, you know, a few strokes and licks."
Jean obeyed and reached for Tom's zipper. "No, don't do that." As much as his cock ached for Jean, the thought of doing it while White violated her was too disgusting. Too late, though, as she had his pants undone and her hand wrapped around his shaft. She switched between stroking, teasing licks, and holding it in her mouth. The latter was the worst, as vibrations from her moans and lashing tongue drove his member wild. Those moans originated a few feet away, caused by White's rod driving into her. The impulses traveled through her nervous system, commanding her to vocalize, connecting him with White. White was making her purr with joy on top of her husband. Tom shuddered as his arousal grew and kept him from moving away.
"That's right, sweetie. Give him what you gave all those guys on the football team," White said.
"What? What are you talking about?" asked Jean.
"You remember...the football team," White pressed on.
"No, I don't...." she trailed off in confusion, then spat out, "Oh, yeah, when I blew all those guys in the locker room, sure. I'll give Tom what I gave them."
"What?!" Tom cried.
"I—" she had blurted out her last sentence just as she had let her other thoughts into the open when White asked her to be honest. But this time, she wasn't even sure what she was talking about. "I don't even know what I just said. I swear I never did that! I don't remember that!"
"Why would you say it if you didn't mean it?" Tom asked. Despite their mutual shock, her hand still felt compelled to stroke his member. She seemed to go into a trance – Tom now resembled some husky linebacker. The memory was surfacing.
"I'm sorry, it..." she choked up. "It was true. But it was in sophomore year, before we even started going out, Tom. I know it's gross, but I never cheated on you. I love you."
She recounted the memory as she now experienced it. There she was, the locker room, her hand wrapped around some jock's dick. The jock reached out, unzipped her skirt, and pulled off the top of her cheer uniform. Two more players showed up and sat silently next to the now nude couple, pulling their pants down. Jean started working on all three of the hard-ons in front of her – sucking, licking, stroking. Before long, the entire team was present and unloading on her, shooting down her throat and coating her skin in cum.
Fuck, did that actually happen? It didn't seem real, it seemed much closer to a scene in some porno she had watched. But something in her mind was telling her that that had happened. Was it possible for memories like that to be repressed?
Tom was too distracted to respond as she redoubled her efforts on his member, her tongue swirling around it ever more rapidly. Her own arousal was reaching a critical point again from White's constant pounding.
"Tell us how it feels, Jean," White said.
Jean propped herself up on Tom's leg again. "Gonna cum...so good." She was too close to the edge to formulate full sentences.
"He's done something to you, Jean. I don't know what, but you've got to fight it," Tom whispered to her.
"I can't...feels so good...need to cum." She was merely panting her words.
An electric feeling seemed to radiate forth from all points of contact with White. Even the simple touch of his hands, which he had wrapped around her waist to steady himself, felt incredible.
When her orgasm hit her, Jean's arms gave out and she fell forward, engulfing Tom's member in her mouth. Tom's dick pulsated inside of it, screaming to be sucked, for direct stimulation. However, the feeling of her orgasmic wailing alone wrapping around his cock was enough to put him right on the edge.
"Oh yeah, I'm gonna cum, babe, all over you," White said, picking her up and rolling her over. Tom's dick ached for release, but he was too embarrassed and shocked to do anything about it. White snapped off the condom and released onto Jean, grunting like a troglodyte. Streams of white liquid splashed against her, splattering onto her cheeks, her chest, and finally her stomach. A few stray droplets landed on his own leg. Tom groaned as he saw his wife covered in White's semen while obscene noises poured from his mouth.
Tom reached for a towel to clean White's vile juices off himself and Jean, but he was already pushing her head toward his softening dick. "Suck me, get me hard so we can fuck again." Tom valiantly reached toward Jean with the towel, catching a drop of cum that ran down her breast and fell off her skin. However, White grabbed the towel and flung it away before Tom got any closer. "She's fine. We'll clean up later."
Tom retreated to the chair next to the bed. Unfortunately, the focal point of the view from there was filled with Jean's haunches thrust out in the air. Her pussy glistened as she sucked White with a gusto that Tom had never seen. A feeling of resentment grew in him, watching her succumb to White and hearing her story about the football team. At first, he had just wanted to kill White, but he felt the urge now to slap Jean as well.
A bulge formed in one of Jean's cheeks, signaling that White was ready to fuck again. White stood up and got off the bed. He maneuvered Jean so that her legs hung off the edge of the bed and he stood between them, pushing his head against her lips.
"Hey, condom!" Tom remembered as he saw him about to push in.
"Don't be so uptight, Tom. She didn't use one when she fucked Roger."
"Roger?" Tom asked.
"Go ahead, tell him," White commanded.
"What do you mean? I never fucked –" she stopped, her eyes seemed to glaze over. "Oh, yeah...."
"Yeah," White repeated using her tone of recognition. Through the whole conversation, he had been rubbing his member against her pussy, threatening to penetrate her, pushing her lips apart ever so slightly, and dripping his precum all over her.