Paul and Janet and T.J. And Ashlea Ch. 02

Janet has the cab pull up in the driveway. The house is dark; no lights. Is he home? Where else would he go?

There are plants on both sides of the walk to the front door, which is set back under the roof by ten or twelve feet, making it darker than even the surrounding area. She fumbles first finding the right key, then finding the lock. She usually just has to hit the button in the car to open the garage door, and enter that way. This is the first time she has to use the front door to enter since they have lived here. Why isn't the dog barking, or at least sniffing at the door? Is he in the yard? That would mean Paul is home.

She enters the foyer and hits the light switch. The home is a tri-level, straight ahead from the front door is a sliding glass door leading to the back yard; the dog isn't there. To the left one set of stairs going down and one set of stair going up. She turns on the lights to the stairs going down to the bar. He isn't there. She starts up the stairs to the living room and kitchen and master bedroom. When she reaches the top stair she notices the glow from a cigarette in the living room. Paul had quit smoking fifteen years ago. Is that him sitting in the dark, smoking?

She hits the lights. Paul sits on the couch, a cigarette in one hand, a drink in the other, the dog sitting on the floor between his legs with his head in Paul's lap.

"Schatzie, go lay down," she commands.

The dog does not move.

"He's my dog," Paul says. "He's not going to listen to you. I don't even know if I want to listen to you."

She sits down next to him, puts her arm around him, tries to take the cigarette away from him. He pulls his hand back.

"Can't we get past this somehow?" she pleads softly. "I'm really sorry. I don't know what got into me. We've got eighteen years together. I really want to get back to the way it was."

"I know what got into you. It was T.J. I don't want to talk to you right now. Go to bed. I need to be by myself. I need to think."

"Come to bed with me. Let me show you how sorry I am."

"No! I'm staying here for a while. You go. But take a shower first. You smell like sex."

She takes a shower and climbs into bed, hoping he'll follow shortly. He doesn't. She eventually cries herself to sleep.

Paul too, eventually falls asleep where he sits, the dog's head still on his lap.

It is midday when Janet awakes. Schatzie is at the patio door waiting to be let out. She lets him out, makes coffee, and goes to wake Paul, who is still asleep bent over on the couch.

"Please, honey, please wake up. Please talk to me," she coos as she nudges him awake.

He opens his eyes and stares at her for a moment. "Let me take that coffee and go take a shower. Then maybe I'll feel like talking."

She is sitting at the kitchen table when he comes back from the shower. She speaks first: "Can you forgive me? I had way too much to drink and I don't know what came over me. It was like I couldn't help myself. You know I've never been like that before, and I never will again, if you'll just forgive me and let us get back to the way we were till yesterday."

"I want to; you know I want to. I love you. I've always loved you, but you've got to know it hurt me no end to see you with another man. It's going to take a while for me to get over it and trust you again."

"I know; but you know I love you. I'll do whatever you ask. Just try to forgive me, please."

"I'll try, but there has to be some conditions."

"Anything. Just name it."

"Okay. First of all, I've got to know that you belong to me exclusively. You must never see that man again, or even have any contact with him. If he calls or tries to contact you, you must not respond—at all!"

"Of course. Anything else?"

"No more going out dressed like you did, looking like you were trying to attract other men."

"I dressed that way for you. Did you not like the way I looked?"

"I loved it, but I want it to be exclusively for me. When I looked over at you sitting there, and realized other men were staring at you, I sensed right then that men would be hitting on you. That's why I asked to leave. Next time listen to me."

"Anything else?"

"Yes. Let's never bring this up again. I don't ever want to talk about it again, okay?"

"I don't want to talk, or even think about it again either. So where do we go from here?"

He reaches across the table and takes her by the hand and leads her back to the bedroom. They lie down together and cuddle, each with their own thoughts, and fall asleep in each other's arms.

* * * * *

After that, except for the timing, things fall into place pretty much as T.J. had forecast.

In spite of what they said, and no matter how well-meaning they are, and no matter how hard they try, things can never be quite the same as they were.

Within four days Janet cannot get T.J. out of her mind. While Paul is at work, she lies on the bed and gets overwhelmed with the memory of that night, of T.J. eating her cunt. Her heart pounds, she gets light-headed, she can't help herself, she has to masturbate.

She takes a job the next week that is a three-day gig in which she works along side a black man. They have worked together before and she had never had any thoughts about it one way or the other. But now, every time she looks at him she thinks of the ecstasy she experienced while T.J. fucked her. The first thing she does every day when she gets home is masturbate. On the third day on the job, standing next to him, she can't wait to get home, she runs to the bathroom and masturbates right then.

The next day, while making her list for the weekly grocery shopping, she remembers the cashier at the check-out. He is a young black man, in his early twenties, and she smiles as she thinks of him. To do the shopping, she decides to wear one of Paul's t-shirts, braless, and tight jeans.

After filling her cart with the weekly groceries Janet pretends to do more shopping, pushing the cart back and forth, until she can be next in line in the young man's line for check-out. She openly flirts with him, amused and excited as he becomes flustered and fumbles with the register and groceries. His eyes are on her breasts more than the register. When he finishes putting the last of the bagged groceries in her cart, she reaches over and puts her hand on his and leaves it there for a moment, at the same time brushing her chest against his arm. "Thank you, young man," she coos, "what a handsome young man you are."

He is so flustered he can't answer. He just keeps nodding his head while staring at her breasts.

On the way home she can't stop dreaming about stripping that young man naked and giving him a blowjob like he has never gotten before, of making him come so hard he would never forget it. When she gets home she can't wait even to take the groceries out of the car. First she has to run inside and masturbate.

* * * * *

Janet tries; she really does, to enjoy the lovemaking with her husband. But the only way she can get an orgasm any more is to pretend in her mind that it is T.J. fucking her. But even that is difficult. Her body knows, her mind knows it isn't T.J. It is the middle of the fourth week when it all comes tumbling down.

All the time since T.J., Paul has tried to be her lover. This night he has kissed her gently, has moved down to her breasts, kissing her whole body, licking her pussy, was now gently fucking her. "Slap me," she whispers.

"What," Paul says.

"Slap me, please," she whispers again, her eyes closed, dreaming she is somewhere else.

Paul immediately loses his hard-on, slides off her, jaws set, stares at the ceiling.

"What's wrong?" Janet shrieks as she wakes from her reverie.

"You're not fucking me, you're fucking HIM; that's what's wrong."

"What are you talking about? It's not true. I've forgotten all about that. There's just you."

"Come on, be honest. You think I can't tell. It's just not been the same with us. He is still between us. You just asked me to slap you. You know I've never done that. Only he has ever done that to you. Why don't you just admit it and get it over with?"

"Please, honey, there's nothing to admit. There's only you. Please, I'm sorry if I've made you feel this way. Come, I promise I'll do better."

Paul turns his back on her, faces the wall. Janet tries to cuddle next to him; puts her arms around him.

"Please, just let me go to sleep," he tells her.

Each pretends to sleep. Neither does. They lay on their separate sides till morning.

* * * * *

When Janet wakes the next morning Paul is already up sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee.

"Are you ready to be honest with me?" he asks.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I can't get that night out of my mind. I don't want to, but it's all I can think about lately."

"Have you been in contact?"

"No."

"Can you contact him?"

"I have his number."

"So, after telling me it was all over and you wouldn't think about him, you couldn't throw his number away. So you were planning on calling him?"

"No, well, maybe,—I don't know."

"Well then, you might as well call him now."

"Is that what you want?"

"No, it's not what I want, but except for divorce it's the only alternative. And I don't want a divorce right now, unless you do."

"No, of course not. I love you. I love being married to you. But I can't help it; I can't stop thinking about him."

"Well, then call him. Maybe you will quickly get it out of your system and we can get back to normal."

* * * * *

"T.J.? Janet. I need you."

"That took longer than I figured. What about your husband?"

"He's sitting right here. He suggested I call you."

"As I told you, you'll have to be punished. You realize that, don't you?"

"Yes sir."

"I've done some investigating, so I know where you live. I have some things to get done at work early, but then I'll come over at 10:00 A.M. At ten minutes to ten I want you to get naked and go stand in the front window and wait for me."

"You want me to stand naked in the front window, where everyone can see me, for ten minutes before you get here?"

"That's right. And if I don't see you in the window naked when I pull up I'm just going to keep going on by and you'll never see me again. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"And when I pull up I want you to go to the door to greet me, naked, of course. And open the door when I get there. I don't want to have to ring the bell or knock."

"Yes sir."

"And tell your husband not to go to work today. I want him there to watch everything."

* * * * *

At ten to ten Janet gets naked, goes to the front window, opens the drapes, and stands, facing straight ahead, hands at her sides. Nobody is going by, but she can't be sure the neighbors across the street are not seeing her. She is scared but she is also a little excited about it.

At ten o'clock T.J. pulls into the driveway. Janet runs down to the front door to greet him. She opens the door and flings herself at him. He embraces her naked body. They kiss, their tongues probing each other.

T.J. gently pushes her away and turns her sideways in the open door. "Now get down on your knees and drop my pants and make love to my cock."

"Right here? But anyone can see."

SLAP

"Don't question me, bitch. You will do as I tell you when I tell you."

"Yes sir."

Paul, watching from the stairs, becomes angry when T.J. slaps Janet, but thinks he can't do anything about it. After all, Janet just last night asked him herself to slap her.

Janet falls to her knees, unbuckles T.J.'s belt and strips his pants down to his ankles. She fondles his cock, kisses it, licks it. As it hardens and grows she puts it in her mouth and slowly licks and sucks. Because the front door is set back from the front of the house no one can see them unless they are directly in front. Even so, the thought that somebody directly across the street or walking by could see them excites her more than she can understand. She fondles his balls, grabs him by the hips and pulls him into her mouth. She feels his cock begin to throb, feels her own orgasm building, and they both explode at the same time. Paul, sitting on the stairs watching also explodes into his pants at the same time.

She slowly licks him clean, savoring every bit of his cum. "I've been dreaming of this every day," she tells him.

He lifts her up and pulls up his pants and closes the door. "Now give me a tour of the house," he orders.

She takes him by the hand and leads him down stairs, which consists of a large room with couches along each wall, a wet bar at one end, and a carpeted conversation pit around a fireplace at the other end. "Down the hall past the bar are three bedrooms and Paul's study," she tells him. A long time ago, when we were younger, we used to have parties. We haven't had any though, in a few years."

"We'll have to have some again," T.J. responds.

Janet leads him by the hand up the stairs to the foyer, and the glass door to the patio. "The dog stays in the yard a lot so we keep the gate to the yard locked so someone doesn't come in and get bitten or let him out."

"Let him in so he gets to know me. I don't want to be bitten when I come over."

She lets the dog in. He sniffs T.J. and allows himself to be petted.

"What's his name?"

"Schatzie. But don't read anything into it. He's registered and his name is Schatzie von something something something or other. I can't remember it all. That was his name when we bought him, and we didn't want to change it."

"Well, if I can't use the back way, I'll need a key to the front door and a garage door opener. What's upstairs?"

Janet leads T.J. up the stairs, walking right past Paul who is still sitting on the stairs, ignores him, as if he weren't there. "Jeez, I'm a third wheel already, he thinks.

"Here," she says, "we have a eat-in kitchen, the living room and dining room, and down the hall is the master bedroom and my study."

"Show me the bedroom," T.J. commands.

Janet walks him down the hall to the master bedroom, a large room with a queen-sized bed. "How about trying it out now?" she begs T.J.

"No, not now. You are going to have to wait a while longer, my dear. Now come to the kitchen. I want to talk to you and your husband."

Paul is already sitting at the kitchen table when they arrive. Janet sits next to him. T.J. stands.

"Get me a key and the garage door opener," T.J. commands.

Paul jumps up and loudly tells him: "Go to hell! This is my house and you're not getting access, you son-of-a-bitch."

"Getting awful brave all of a sudden there, aren't you? Well, let me explain something to you, pal." He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a disc and throws it on the table in front of Paul. "That is a recording of everything on that evening in the hotel room. My wife and I enjoy playing it, and you may enjoy watching it yourself. So, you see, I have at least one other copy. Wouldn't it be a shame if your employers and friends were to receive copies for them to watch? So you better understand, Janet belongs to me now and I will come and go as I please and do with her as I please. Do you understand?"

Paul is white with anger and frustration, but he sits back down at the table. Janet is flushed but says nothing.

T.J. continues: "My wife wants to meet both of you so you're invited to our place Saturday night. I'll call you Saturday morning with the address and how you are to proceed. I expect no more trouble from you. Now get me that key and opener. You can get a replacement for yourself."

Paul gave him the key and opener without a word. T.J. bent and kissed Janet, and left.

* * * * *

T.J. calls Saturday morning. Janet answers the phone. "My wife drove me to work this morning and took the car. So I need you and Paul to pick me up from work at 6:00 p.m. sharp. I'll give you the address, okay?"

"Yes sir."

"And I want you to wear the same outfit you wore at the raffle; no bra, blouse unbuttoned halfway down. I don't care what Paul wears, he can wear jeans or casual, I don't care."

"Yes sir."

"And one other thing. Get a wax job or shave your pussy. I want you clean, not just now, but from now on. You got it?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. I'll see you at six."

* * * * *

Paul has been morose and quiet since the scene in the kitchen. As they drive to pick up T.J. he is the same. "Please, can you try to be a little cordial?" Janet asks. He does not respond.

T.J. is waiting in front as they pull up. He opens the passenger door and takes Janet by the hand. "You get in the back with me," he orders. She climbs out. He opens the back door and climbs in, pulling her behind him. She closes the door behind her. "Go to the freeway and turn south," he tells Paul.

"Now get undressed," he orders Janet.

"Here? Now?" she asks.

"Yes, I want you naked."

"Yes sir," and she complies.

"While we were apart, did you think of me and masturbate?"

"Yes."

"How often?"

"Every day."

"Show me."

"You want me to masturbate here? Now? Everybody can see in the car."

"You really have to quit questioning me, slut. I want you to show me how you masturbate."

Janet reaches down and rubs her pussy lips, strokes herself. She reaches in with her middle finger, massages her clit. As she strokes, she starts getting excited, spreads her legs further apart, penetrates herself deeper, breathes harder.

They come to a stoplight, pull up to the left of a semi stopped at the light. T.J. leans over, looks out the window. "That truck driver is looking straight ahead. Honk the horn, Paul."

The truck driver looks down, sees Janet stroking herself. T.J. whispers to her: "See that truck driver looking down watching you. Just think how excited he is watching you pleasure yourself. Isn't that exciting? Tonight, while he's fucking his wife, he'll be thinking of you, dreaming it is you he's fucking. How does that make you feel, slut?"

His words and the thought of the truck driver watching her pleasure herself cause her to explode with the most chaotic and pleasurable orgasm she has ever had while masturbating. She shakes and screams and cums all over herself.

When the light changes, Paul speeds up to get ahead of the truck so he can turn on to the freeway. The truck sits there till the cars behind it begin honking their horns. He probably can't wait to get home; he is probably sitting at that light masturbating.

"Now get dressed," T.J. tells Janet.

Paul stares straight ahead with a scowl on his face. He is even more pissed now. He is determined to not be involved in any of these goings-on. He will close his mind and pretend he is somewhere else. They will all see that he is not a part of any of it.

But when they pull up to T.J.'s property, he can't help but be impressed. The guard at the gate looks in the back seat, sees T.J. and Janet and waves them through with a smile. The house is at the end of a cul-de-sac, and it is huge.

The double-door entrance swings open as they go up the walkway. Standing in the doorway is a black woman dressed in a tank top, with no bra, and short shorts and sandals. Paul thinks she is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen and all his preconceived intentions are cast aside.

T.J. makes the introductions: "Janet, this is my wife Ashlie."

"I have been dying to meet you, girl," Ashlie gushes as she rushes up and puts her arms around Janet and kisses her lightly on the lips.

Janet is also impressed with Ashlie's beauty and is so overwhelmed by the greeting she can't respond.

"And this is her husband Paul," T.J. continues.

"I'm so glad to meet you, Paul," Ashlie says as she takes Paul's hand and reaches up and kisses him on the cheek.

Paul is so tongue-tied he can't speak. "Yyeah," he mumbles, 'mmee too."

Ashlie has prepared a great meal. After the meal they move to the wet bar.