A Fucked Up Situation

I thought that I pulled off being nonchalant most of the weekend and in general it wasn't as bad as I had expected; except for one thing.

I don't know how she managed it but at one point during the weekend Alice finagled for her and me to go to a convenience store together to get some ice and a few other items. The way there was no problem. Before we got into the car on the way back, however, Alice suddenly pulled from her purse a swab and vile of the type that you see on crime scene investigation shows on TV.

"I need something from you before we return, Beck," Alice said getting in my face with a diabolical smile on her face as she held up the swab.

"Uh, what's that?" I meekly and stupidly asked.

"You've seen CSI on TV, Beck, you know damn well what it is. I want a DNA sample and I'm not taking no for an answer. Did you really think that fucking me would have no consequences?"

I timidly gave her the sample.

The ride back was quiet except for her statement "If Colin turns out to be your son I have no intention of telling anyone; I'll just need your medical records in case they would have some relevance to his health in the future. You'll provide them won't you, Beck?" she queried with an even more diabolical grin than when she confronted me with the swab and vial.

"Why do you think that I might be his father?" I disingenuously inquired.

"You've got to be kidding; Alan doesn't remember fucking me the first night at the Lodge, whenever you're around me you get an instant hard-on -- just like now you pervert -- and Colin looks just like you and fortunately Alan is too clueless to recognize that. If you're his father are you sending me the medical records?" she snarled.

I realized that I had, once again, tented my pants being around her so I sighed and meekly replied "Uh...OK, Alice."

***********

Two weeks later Alice called me at my office. After brief small talk, in a sing-song (not mean) voice she said "I'll need those medical records, Beck; send them to me in a package marked 'Confidential' to my office, address..."

I did as asked, wondering how fucked up my life would become if Alice ever needed to use them.

At my office two weeks after I sent out my medical records I got a FedEx envelope marked "Confidential." When I opened it there were three 8 1/2 x 11 inch very clear color photos. The first one was Alice naked from the front with her hands on her hips. The second one was Alice naked from the rear with her head turned toward the camera and smiling. The third one was her lying on a bed with her legs spread, a contorted look on her face, and a dildo in her pussy. My cock instantly inflated and jammed into my zipper; it hurt like a sonofabitch.

The exchange of Confidential envelopes episode, combined with my memory of fucking Alice, had two predictable effects on me.. The first effect: I daydream about fucking Alice almost every day when I look at the photos she sent. The second predictable effect: I no longer scoff at stories about a guy mistakenly fucking someone he thought was his wife.