You Break It, You Bought It.

Copyright ©2020

Once again, I was honored to be invited by Bebop to participate in his theme story challenge. I want to express my thanks to him and others for this event.

I hope you enjoy my story, and as always, I enjoy reading your comments.

*****

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? I'm going to sue your ass for every penny you've got!"

*****

It's strange how certain situations will make you recall things that you hadn't thought of in decades.

As far back as he could remember, Adam used to sit at a desk in the backroom of his dad's store when doing his homework. Both his mom and dad worked there, so the school bus would drop him off at the store instead of their house. After he was done they'd sometimes let him help out, but not very often. It was an antique shop, and most of the items were pretty expensive.

He remembered once when a woman came in with her six or seven-year-old son. She was looking at an antique clock when the kid saw some old toys and took off running. He knocked down a three hundred dollar vase and broke it. Adam's dad tried to get the lady to pay for it, but she refused. That's when he had the signs made up—three of them, saying, If you break it, you'll pay for it.

He put one outside, over the door so people would see it when they first walked in. The other two were strategically placed inside, so no one could say they didn't see the sign. It was amazing how many people suddenly became way more careful as they walked around, perusing the delicate items.

As much as Adam loved his parents, he was afraid he was somewhat of a disappointment. He knew they had aspirations of him taking over the store one day, but he just had no interest in it.

His love was photography. When he was nine or ten, he saw an old Kodak, Signet forty camera on a shelf in the store. His dad had priced it at only ten bucks so he asked if he could have it. His dad gave it to him but made him clean the store to pay for it. From the moment Adam saw his first set of pictures, he was hooked. A couple of years later, his dad helped him set up a darkroom in the back of the shop where he started developing his own black and white film. Well, from there, he just never looked back.

He met Michelle in college when she was looking for someone to take a nice shot of her for a new on-line literary club she was joining. She wanted something better than a selfie and someone recommended Adam. He was immediately infatuated with her from the start, but she didn't really show much interest in him until he delivered the pictures. She absolutely loved them and it seemed to melt her somewhat icy façade.

She accepted his first request for a date with a little hesitance, but smiled broadly when he asked her for a second, then a third. By the fourth date, Michelle had decided he was a keeper and was going to stake her claim. They were invited to a party at one of the sorority houses off-campus. They'd been there about an hour when she told Adam she had something she wanted to show him upstairs. As soon as she saw an empty bedroom, she pulled him inside and locked the door behind them.

Adam wasn't stupid and couldn't help grinning as he asked her what she wanted to show him. Within a few seconds she stood naked in front of him. "This," she replied.

He couldn't believe how great she felt in his arms. His cock was stretched so tight he was literally in pain. She put her arms around his neck as their lips met. She looked up into his eyes and smiled. "Well, are you going to get out of clothes and fuck me, or what?"

He didn't have to be asked twice. By the time Michelle slid seductively into the bed, he was naked. Before joining her, Adam stood and committed to memory the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Despite the pain from his protruding penis, he was determined to take his time and make it a memorable night for the prone goddess. She, however, had a different idea.

"Come on, Adam, we don't have much time. Stick that thing in me. There's bound to be somebody else who'll want to use this room any minute. Don't worry about a condom, I'm on the pill."

Adam was certainly no Don Juan, but he knew enough to know he needed to get her ready, first. He laid next to her, wrapped his arm around her neck and pulled her in for a kiss while starting to finger her glorious pussy. It took only seconds before he felt moisture.

"Mmmm," she cooed, "I wish we had more time, honey, but we don't."

He didn't miss the fact that she had called him honey for the first time. He smiled and kissed her again as maneuvered his body on top of hers. She wasted no time and reached down to help him find his target.

"Oh, God, that feels so good," she moaned as he slowly slid inside of her. She raised her hips to meet his rhythm and together they brought each other to an earthshattering climax. As they lay in each other's arms, enjoying their post-coital high, there was a knock on the door.

"Hey, what's going on in there?" chuckled a female voice.

A male voice followed up. "Yeah, you going to hog the room all night?"

A little embarrassed, Adam and Michelle looked at each other and broke out laughing.

After that they agreed to be exclusive, and for the next two years, were inseparable.

After receiving their degrees, hers in journalism, and his in photography, they were both lucky enough to find decent jobs. Adam was hired by a large studio that specialized in all kinds of fashion and product photography, everything from jewelry and furniture to lingerie and coats. Michelle got a job as a staff writer with one of the major Chicago newspapers.

Between them, they made good money and went in together on a nice apartment about twenty minutes northwest of the city. They didn't even know two-floor apartments existed. This one had a fireplace downstairs and two bedrooms upstairs. A year later, they were married.

Being professional people, much to the dismay of their parents, they decided to hold off for a while before starting a family.

For the next three years, things were going well. They had great sex four or five times a week. Two or three times a month, they'd go out to dinner, after which they'd go dancing or see a show. They still lived in the same apartment, made some friends, and saw their parents now and then. They were also putting money away for a house in the burbs, and even started talking about expanding the family once they bought their own place. Life was good.

Their hours were the same, but Adam usually beat Michelle home. When he did he'd start dinner. He was just pre-heating the oven when she came in.

"Hi, gorgeous!"

"Hi," she said with little enthusiasm.

"Ah, oh, what's the matter?"

"Oh, nothing, really... well, yeah, for a while I'll have to do some traveling, I guess. I don't think it'll be anything extensive, maybe overnight, maybe a couple of nights, I don't know."

She sounded really depressed about it. She'd never had to travel since getting married, but it didn't actually surprise Adam that much. They were going into an election year, so he figured she might get sent on the campaign trail now and again.

"Because of the elections?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm getting my own politician," she scoffed, "Terry Bartlett."

He had to think. "Bartlett, I don't think I know him. What's he running for?"

"The Illinois General Assembly," she replied. "I knew his younger brother in high school. He was an absolute jerk. Clay was his name. It's hard to believe he has a brother smart enough to run for office, because Clay was an idiot. He was also a bully. Nobody liked him."

"Well I've seen some politicians who didn't have a whole lot upstairs," he joked as he slid the pork chops into the oven.

"Yeah, I just hope he's not like his brother, or I'll go bonkers if I have to do any traveling with him."

"Honey, high school was a while ago, I'm sure they've grown up some since then."

"Well, I don't know Terry. I've never met him, but I wouldn't count on Clay doing any growing up. I sure hope he doesn't tag along on the campaign trail. I'll quit before I ride in any busses or trains with that creep."

Adam poured her a glass of her favorite wine and changed the subject to something more pleasant. No sense in getting upset over some hypothetical scenario.

No more was said until three weeks later when Michelle came home grumbling to herself. He didn't think she even realized she was audible because she looked up with a shocked expression when he questioned what she'd said.

"Ah nothing," she quipped. "Remember last month when I told you about the politician I have cover?"

"Yeah, Terry somebody."

"Bartlett," she stated. "Remember I told you about his younger brother?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, who the fuck do you think is Terry's campaign manager?"

He knew she was pissed. Rarely did Michelle ever use the F word, but he couldn't help but see the humor. He chuckled, "Oh no."

"It's not funny, Adam. The guy's a prick."

"Oh, come on, honey, I'm sure he's not the same person he was in high school."

"I sure hope not. I was at their campaign headquarters for an interview today. I recognized Clay right off the bat, but I don't think he recognized me. I saw him staring at me several times from a back room, but I don't think he figured out who I am. I'm sure he'll remember sooner or later, though."

"Honey, if it bothers you that much, why don't you ask them to take you off the assignment? Hell, there're probably a couple hundred people running for office in this town right now. Can't they give you another politician? Give the Bartlett boys to somebody else."

"That's what I should do," she replied, "but, damn it, the reporter in me says I should be able to handle situations like this with professionalism, so I'm just going to bite the bullet and do my job."

"That's my baby," he said with pride. "And I know just what to do when you come home all tensed up," he said with a big grin.

"You going to buy me a membership in a spa?" she joked.

It was the first smile he'd seen since she'd come home.

"Well, I guess that's one way, but I know a way to relieve tension that's a lot more fun."

"Well, you'd better eat your Wheaties because I foresee a lot of tense days in the upcoming months."

Michelle was dead serious about taxing her husband's sexual prowess. Not only would it relieve tension, but it might relieve some of her guilt as well. She knew damn well she wasn't being quite honest, not with Adam and not with herself. Truth was, she had an enormous crush on Clay Bartlett in high school. The part about him being a jerk was absolutely true. He treated all the girls with contempt, including Michelle on the few occasions he even noticed her, but he was also the best looking guy in the whole school. She used to fantasize about having sex with him. Of course, she racked it up to the raging hormones of being a pubescent young woman. The problem was...those same fantasies were returning.

Over the next couple of weeks, Michelle was sent out to cover several of Terry's speeches, but Clay wasn't at any of them. It wasn't until she had to stop off at the campaign headquarters to pick up a press release that she ran into him again. She had the release in her hand and was almost out the door before she heard him call her name.

"Michelle, you're not even going to say hi?"

She took a deep breath and whisper to herself, "I love my husband," before slowing turning. "Hello, Clay, I didn't see you."

"Yeah, I usually don't get out of the war room back here very often, but I heard your voice and had to say hi. It's good to see you again. I think the last time was on graduation day."

Her lips formed a phony smile. "Oh, did you graduate with us?"

The comment put him back on his heels for just a split second. Then he chuckled, "I guess I was kind of a prick back then, wasn't I."

"Back then?" mumbled one of the girl volunteers in the office.

"Hey, hey, that'll be enough from the peanut gallery," Clay joked.

Michelle wasn't so sure the woman was joking, but she couldn't tell for sure.

"Hey, you got time for a cup of coffee around the corner... just to catch up?"

"I'm working, Clay," she answered. "I've got to get back, maybe next time."

"Okay," he replied. "It really is good seeing you again."

She didn't say anything, just smiled before walking out, leaving the bell hanging above the door clanging away. She chastised herself while walking back to her car. I shouldn't have said maybe next time, she told herself. He'll take that as encouragement. "Damn it," she said out loud.

The years had only given Clay's boyish good looks a more rugged maturity. That jet black wavy hair, piercing blue eyes, and squared-off chin, once again, had her panties almost dripping.

Michelle was the first one home that night. She didn't feel like cooking--she felt like fucking. Knowing Adam would be along shortly, she ordered a pizza and pulled a bottle of wine from the rack.

Adam and the pizza guy got to the apartment door at the same time.

"Evidently, my beautiful wife doesn't feel like cooking tonight," Adam said as he pulled twenty bucks from his wallet and gave it to the kid. "Keep it."

"Thank you, sir."

In case she looked through the peephole, Adam held the pizza in front of his face and rang the bell. "Pizza delivery," he said as she opened the door.

"Come on in," she replied. "You can set it on the kitchen table. This works out perfectly. I've always fantasized about fucking the pizza delivery boy," she said with a big grin.

"Damn, I guess that makes me about the luckiest pizza delivery guy in the whole city." Michelle didn't usually get amorous until later at night, so he couldn't help but wonder what brought on the early evening attack of lust, but then who was he to question why.

They each had a glass of wine with their meal, then finished the bottle while getting hot and heavy on the couch. It was only a little after seven when they took it to the bedroom.

Their normal routine would have Adam slowly undressing his beautiful bride but as soon as they reached the bedroom, Michelle sunk to her knees and smiled up at him while she undid Adam's belt and pulled his pants down.

Coquettishly, she teased the head of his cock using only the tip of her tongue. She had driven poor Adam almost insane with lust before engulfing his entire six inches all the way to its base. When he could no longer stand it, he reached down and gently raised his wife to her feet before removing her clothing. She climbed into bed as Adam sat on the edge and finished taking his pants off.

As he laid down and rolled over, he saw his beautiful wife lying next to him, her eyes were close and she had a devilish little anticipating smile. Her welcoming nipples were as hard as little flesh-colored pearls.

"Oh, God," she sang out as she felt his tongue lightly circling them, first one, then the other. Her breathing got heavier and her head rolled back as she arched her back, giving Adam a mouthful of soft succulent breasts.

He continued to play with her sensitive nipples with his fingers as he slowly worked his way down her torso to the smoothly shaven flesh of her pussy. Almost involuntarily, Michelle raised her knees and pulled her feet back to give her husband's magic tongue more room to work. It didn't take long before her luscious body was thrashing around the bed. "Oh, oh, oh—oh yes," she screamed, "Oh God!"

Allowing his beautiful wife a few moments to get her breathing a little better, he soon moved into position. "Oh God, that feels so good," she moaned as Adam slipped his rigid pole into the heavenly gates.

Michelle reached up and locked her arms around her man as he slowly worked his rigid cock in and out of her writhing body. He could always tell when she was getting close and sped up to meet his wife's reactions. With screams and groans of ecstasy filling the room, they came together.

Still huffing and puffing, Adam stretched his arm out so Michelle could curl up next to his body. She was the first to gain her voice. "Have I told you I love you?"

"Ah...this morning."

"Not since then? Well, I do you know."

Adam grinned. "I know, and I love you back... with all my heart and soul."

"If I try really hard, how long do you think it would take me to get your soldier standing at attention again?"

"Well, if you use that magic tongue of yours, not long," he replied with a broadening smile.

*****

In the backroom of the Bartlett campaign headquarters, Clay was having a hard time concentrating. He kept thinking about Michelle. He remembered her as still having a little baby fat in high school, but she sure didn't have it any longer. She was looking damn good, better than his own wife, and he always considered her to be a real knockout. He was supposed to be organizing meetings for his candidate brother, but all he could think about was how to get Michelle in the sack.

Since he was in charge of his brother's schedule, he was sure he could arrange an opportunity, the question was, could he smooth talk her into bed? He knew he treated her like shit in high school, but he also had a hunch she really liked him. He'd have to take things slowly, at least until he could get a good read on her. This time, he thought, I won't wait for her to come here, I'll go to her.

The next day he took a chance that she'd be in the newsroom and showed up at the paper just before lunch. When the receptionist confirmed she was upstairs he asked if he could see her. He had the latest poll results he wanted to share with her.

She came downstairs and met him in the lobby. "Hi, Clay, what's up?"

"I got the latest poll results," he replied. "They show Terry ahead by seven points."

"I've already seen it, Clay. I probably had them before you did. Was there anything else? I've got work to do."

He purposely glanced at his watch. "Oh, come on, even reporters have to eat. It's almost noon. Let me buy you lunch."

She felt that familiar moisture in her panties again, but she didn't want to give him the impression she was anxious. She made an audible sigh and made a show of hesitating. She glanced at her own watch. "Oh, I guess that would be all right, but I can't take too long. I have a deadline to meet."

"So, taking you to the Chez Pari is out of the question?" he said with a smile.

The Chez Peri was probably the most expensive restaurant within a hundred miles. She smiled, "DeMar's is right down the street. They have great olive burgers. That'll be fine. I have to run up and tell them I'm leaving. I'll be right back," she said.

DeMar's restaurant wasn't quite what Clay had in mind. Acoustics wise, it left a lot to be desired. He could hear the dishes rattling around in the kitchen. Oh well, he thought, he wasn't really planning on trying to seduce her the first time out anyway.

After taking their order, the slightly heavy waitress picked up their menus and headed for the kitchen. Clay reached over the booth and as nonchalantly as he could, touched Michelle's ring finger.

"I see you're married, anyone I know?"

"No," she said pulling her hand back slightly out of reach. "I met him in college. He's a photographer."

Clay immediately saw an idea. "Oh, no kidding; hey maybe we'll hire him to do some more campaign shots. I never did like the ones we have now." It was the perfect excuse for them to meet and allow him to size up his competition. Maybe her husband was a wimp...someone he could dominate and show up in front of his wife.

"Ah, I can ask him if he'd be interested, but he doesn't really that kind of photography. He's a commercial photographer. He takes pictures for catalogs and marketing sites."

"I see, so tell me about yourself; how long you been with the paper?"