6:17 AM, the coffeemaker taunted me as the last of the water gurgled in its death throws. I blankly stared at the glowing red numbers. Why am I up so fucking early? Because you woke up and couldn't fall back to sleep despite the adventurous drive home from your parents and the deeply satisfying coupling once we'd made it upstairs. Nope, you should still be asleep, reaping the benefits of the Monday holiday. Tomorrow, you'll be back at work, you fool.
My mind had other plans. So here I am making coffee. Most other days, George would do it, but after an hour of staring at the ceiling while a headache germinated, I slipped out of bed and into my robe, doing my best not to disturb him. I kind of wish I'd woken him up so we could talk, but that wouldn't be fair.
A final puff of steam announced that I could steal a mugful. After returning the carafe, I stirred in some sugar. A sip later, I froze. Where to sit? I'd rather contemplate that than listen to the discomforting thoughts clamoring for attention.
"You're up early."
George's words startled me, and I recoiled as his words penetrated the silence.
"Ow! Shit!" I exclaimed, hot coffee spilling over my hand.
"Are you okay?"
"I'll be fine, just get me some paper towels."
Tossing his phone on the counter, George sprang into action, not only granting my request, but taking the mug from my hand and turning on the cold water in the sink.
"Run your hand under this. It should help."
I took his advice, smiling at my knight in white terrycloth. "Thanks."
He tenderly dried my hands then the outside of the mug, setting it on the counter. "Let's try that again," he said, embracing me. "You're up early."
"I couldn't sleep."
"Duh, but why? Didn't I wear you out last night?"
"You did. No complaints there. I woke up to pee around five and my mind wouldn't turn off."
"Want to talk about it?"
"Yes, but can we have some coffee first?"
"Definitely," he concurred, handing over my cup and fixing one for himself. "As long as you're over your drinking problem."
"Very funny."
"Not a goodtime for humor, I take it."
"Sorry. Too much on my mind."
"Alright then," he soothed. "Let's have a seat."
After a few slugs of coffee, George arranged two of the stools at the breakfast bar to face one another. Once situated, he took my hands in his, resting on my lap and gifting one of his reassuring smiles.
"You know," he assured, "you should have woken me up."
"Why? So you could listen to me gripe about my problems?"
"They're not your problems. They're mine too. Ours. We're in this together. The good, the bad and hopefully, not the ugly."
"I know, but I..."
George silenced me with a finger to my lips, and said, "I'm all ears."
"Alright. First...do you remember how I told you about the chat I had with my mom while you were on the deck with dad?"
"Of course, but I thought you couldn't tell me about it."
"I still can't," I confirmed. "At least the details, but there's one thing that bothers me..."
"And that is?"
"Well, you also remember the blow up call I had with her Saturday?"
"That would be hard to forget."
"Got that right, but, as a result, she thought that I was suddenly some kind of expert..."
"You mean you're not?"
"George! Please...anyway, in a very, very roundabout way, she asked me for advice."
"Where'd that come from?"
"I know. It was the last thing I expected, and believe me, it was awkward...for both of us."
"I'm sure. So what did you tell her?"
"That I wasn't the one she should be asking, but she was persistent. The trouble is, I can't go into details."
"Umm," George pondered, "So then, what's your point?"
"I'm worried that I might have given her bad advice. I tried to tell her that my experience was what worked for me but might not work for her."
"Ah, okay, now I get it. If it blows up, somehow it'll be your fault."
"Exactly. I'd hate to be the cause of anything between my parents."
"You won't be."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Looking at it from a male perspective, why would any guy complain if his partner wanted a more, umm...robust...sex life."
"I suppose so. I just hope you're right."
"I don't want to sound too cocky, but I am."
"Okay, but I thought you were the cock-er and I'm the cock-ee," I joked, embracing the sense of normalcy it delivered.
George snorted. "So, you feeling better?"
"Somewhat, but those god damned Rizzo brothers still haunt me too."
"Why? Chuck took care of them."
"I know, but that's not the problem."
"Then what is?" he asked.
"Me. I feel guilty about causing everything. If I'd just backed away from the window, none of it would have happened."
"We can't change that and besides, in my eyes, you did nothing wrong."
"I know. Maybe guilt is the wrong word. More like I'm pissed off that Tony would think I owed him something. Or worse, that he still believes it."
"I'm sure he doesn't. Nothing like the threat of financial ruin to sharpen one's focus," he assured, "but I tell you what. I've already got the surveillance cams on the dock. How about if I add some around the house. Nothing too crazy, just the entry points."
"That would help."
"And I'll get alarms for the doors and first floor windows."
"That's even better, thank you."
"I want you to feel safe in your own home."
"I love you, George Richter!"
I leapt to my feet and gave him a big hug, 'your own home' playing to me deepest emotions.
"I love you too," he replied and kissed me deeply with its usual effect - good thing my arms were wrapped around him.
"Okay," he continued after a deep breath. "One other thing. Have you given any thought to Chuck's offer?"
"You mean the self-defense classes?"
"Yes."
"I'm not sure, but I'm leaning towards yes."
"Tell you what. Why don't you try a few times and see how it goes. It's not like you're signing a contract or anything. It's still too early to call Chuck, but I'll try him later."
"I trust your judgement."
"Thanks, so anything else troubling you?"
"No, other than feeling silly for worrying so much."
"That's natural," he said. "What would be odd is if none of this affected you. However, I've got just the thing you need."
"And that is?" I asked expectantly.
"You need to beat the crap out of something."
"What? That's hardly what I expected to hear."
"I was talking about right now...We've still got the whole day ahead of us..."
"That's more like it. What do you have in mind?"
"You'll see. I don't want to spoil the surprise," he remarked with a devilish grin. "Do you have a sports bra?"
I hesitated, as George once again proved cryptic, but I remained confident I'd enjoy the unveiling. "I do. The real question is whether I packed it. Per your instructions, I hadn't anticipated needing much underwear, particularly something so confining."
"Well then that's on me, so let's go have a look."
We left our empty mugs on the counter and went up to the bedroom. I rummaged through my clothes in the closet. My packing to move in with George had proved haphazard at best. Constantly distracted by Judy's inquisition, I'd obviously chosen a random selection to put in my suitcase.
"Found one!" I shouted in triumph.
"Excellent. Put it on. Some shorts too."
All I had were some clingy stretch shorts. He joined me in the closet, grabbing a tee shirt and shorts as well.
"Damn, this feels like a chastity belt for my boobs," I complained once we'd both dressed and put on sneakers.
"Trust me, it won't be forever. Let's go."
My hand in his, I followed him to the garage where he opened a wide door that led to the basement. He flipped on the lights and I followed him down the staircase along the wall.
"Damn, it's bright down here and I didn't know you had a basement."
"Yeah, we skipped it on the house tour. I did install LED lights as there aren't any windows, and there's really not much down here."
To say the least. Just concrete block walls, painted white; the concrete floor a medium grey and above, the raw floor joists with insulation nested between them. On the right, a work bench and shelves with power tools and painting supplies all neatly stowed. Yeah, he's kind of a Felix, but I'll take that over Oscar any day. Along the back wall, nothing but the HVAC system, water heater and sump pump. A white fridge/freezer stood in solitary confinement on the left.
"Looks like a typical basement to me," I said flatly, "So why are we here?"
George just pointed under the landing at the top of the stairs. Suspended beneath, big punching bag with interlocking black rubber mats on the floor, about ten feet on each side. A small tan plastic cabinet stood off to the side.
"Oh," I said in surprise. "So, this is where you practice smashing people in the face."
"Ouch," he smiled.
"I was only teasing. I'll never regret what you did. So, what now?"
"You're going to get rid of the demons," he advised.
He fetched some padded fingerless gloves from the cabinet. We both put them on and he gave me some basic instruction - fist tight, wrist straight and locked; step into it - followed by his demonstrating the technique.
I was hesitant at first, timidly hitting the bag as if it might hit back, but with his constant encouragement, I gained confidence and started striking firmly. It felt good- sweat forming, grunting with each blow, followed by a satisfying thud.
After a few minutes, my arms grew weary and dangled at my sides. Enough for now. Breathing heavily, I couldn't hold back a grin as I leaned forward, head hanging, hands resting on my knees.
"You did great. Now it's my turn," he said.
Lifting my head, I watched in wonder as George pounded the bag, his face locked in deep concentration while I was relieved not to be on the receiving end of the blows but also reassured by the protection they offered. I wasn't sure how to process the contradiction.
We each went another round that rendered both of us panting and our clothes clinging with perspiration.
"That was thirsty work," he declared. "How about we cool of in the gazebo with some water?"
I merely nodded, exhaustion rendering me mute.
"You were right. I really needed that," I declared breathlessly as I sat at the table, my arm quivering from the exertion. Water spilled over my chest as I sipped between heavy breaths. "Oops,." The cold water was absorbed by my sports bra, tightening my nipples.
"Nice," he commented, staring at my breasts and the nubs outlined by the tight fabric.
"Down boy, at least let me catch my breath"
"Just enjoying the view, but, yeah, I could use a breather too."
After a few minutes, I started, "There is one thing, but it's kind of awkward..."
"We're past awkward, don't you think?"
"This is different."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, when we were in the basement, I saw a ferocity in you I've never seen before and it was...unnerving."
"I certainly wasn't trying to scare you...but as I've been taught, Assess your enemy. Spot a weakness and when the opportunity appears, strike. Quickly and without remorse."
"That explains a lot...but isn't that sort of the technique you used the night we met?" I teased.
"I suppose, but for one big difference," he replied solemnly. "You're not the enemy, my love...you're actually my greatest weakness. One I'd never surrender without a fight."
Deeply touched, I felt a lump in my throat and a tears rising, "That's so swee..."
Our heads both swiveled towards the driveway as a red Mercedes convertible, top down, raced along the driveway, screeching to a halt behind George's car, between the gazebo's obstruction and the car's speed, we couldn't tell who was driving.
"Who the hell is that?" I asked, alarmed by the aggressive entrance.
"Haven't a clue, but I'm sure going find out."
George rushed down the steps with me at his heels as we observed a slight, well-tanned woman with shoulder length dark hair exit the car, slamming the door in the process. She would have been lucky to top five feet in heels. Large designer sunglasses hid her eyes. A clinging pink tennis dress revealed she was essentially shapeless - a forty-ish face on a eleven year old's body. White sandals. Dripping gold from her earrings and necklace to her gaudy engagement ring and multiple bangles on her wrists - her outfit a fashion statement, not indicating any avocation. She strode aggressively at George.
"Hold it right there!" George commanded, towering over her and bringing her up short. "Who are you and what do you want?"
"I'm Annette Rizzo and..."
"You shouldn't be here," George interrupted flatly, turning to me and adding, "Let me handle this."
I was perfectly content to watch the unfolding drama, although I realized my hands had suddenly balled into fists. I did my best to relax them.
"Maybe not, but I'm telling you to leave my Tony the fuck alone."
"We don't want a goddamned thing to do with him."
"Then why'd you have to beat him up so bad?"
"I only hit him once," he informed her, "Well maybe twice, if you count the knee."
I savored the shock that hit her as she eyed George up and down, realizing that although he isn't heavily muscled, the sweaty tee shirt clinging to his torso revealed George was in very good shape. The aggression melted from her face, as she realized what I already knew - there's more to this man than meets the eye.
"That's not what he told me," she meekly replied.
"I'm not surprised. But regardless of what he told you, I just advised him to leave and that'd be the end of it. However, if you'd like to look at the tape, I can show you. But then I'd have to get the cops involved."
"You've got a video?" With that line of attack repelled, she changed tactics and pointed at me, blurting out, "Then you shouldn't go around the house showing off your tits!"
"At least I have a pair!" I shot back. Annette flushed with anger as she glared my chest and erect nipples. "Holy shit! I don't believe it. You're fucking jealous."
"I am not!" she protested, but the damage had been done.
"Now Linda, don't get riled up because she's envious of perfection," George said with an evil grin, winking at me so that Annette couldn't see it.
"Perfection," I slowly repeated, savoring the word. "You never said that before."
"I know, but totally accurate," he replied, grinning and intentionally ignoring Annette.
"That's so sweet," I said, following his lead.
"You know, I promised to speak the truth, always."
"Indeed you did. Thank you." Out the corner of my eye, Annette seethed.
"Oh no," George countered, "Thank you!"
"Cut the shit!" Annette shouted, then pointed at me once more. "It's all her fault!"
"So, you admit Tony's a peeping Tom because you're flat chested," I shouted back.
"That," she stammered, "That's not why it happened! Tony just don't take no for an answer."
"Then he might have learned something, but have it your way," George said flatly, trying to calm the situation. "Just wait here while I call the cops. I'm sure they can sort it out, perhaps adding attempted sexual assault to the charges, of course Tony will then have to register as a sex offender. Even though we'd prefer to let it go, but if that's what you want..."
"Let it go? Then, why did those two big fucking feds come to my house?"
"Can't say I know them," he told her. Technically true, but he did know of them. Then it dawned on me - the less she knew, the better.
"They showed up after Tony got home. Flashing their badges with their whole Men in Black routine. Telling Tony that they'd sic the IRS on us and if we didn't leave you alone, we'd be bankrupt and Tony would go to jail!" she replied frantically, panic setting in.
"Then I'd suggest you take their advice. It's better than visiting Tony in the big house telling him how they auctioned off your car, your house and your jewelry."
"Don't forget the boat," I added, twisting the knife as best as I could.
"Right," he confirmed with a smile, "I'd forgotten about the boat."
Annette was speechless, her bottom lip quivering, adding meekly, "I can't go back to being poor."
"Or..." George prolonged, "You can get in your fine automobile, go home and mind your own fucking business."
Defeated, Annette shuffled off to her car, slowly getting inside and softly closing the door.
Before she could turn the key, I walked up to her and said, "You want to hold on to your money? Maybe spend some on a boob job, then put that fat perv husband of yours on a leash and teach him the meaning of no."
I felt her eyes burning into me as I sashayed over to George, hooked his arm in mine, never turning back as we alighted the steps, savoring the sounds of chirping tires as Annette turned around and roared down the driveway. Once back on the patio, I gave him a big hug.
Leaning back and grinning I said, "Oh that was fun!"
"Indeed it was."
"Even a better catharsis than the punching bag."
"I'd say you never stopped. That last jab was almost too cruel."
"Almost," I countered, grinning mischievously. "But didn't you say something about spotting weaknesses and striking without mercy."
"Proving once again that you're a fast learner."
"So where were we?" I asked as we sat back down at the table. Picking up my water bottle, I toasted, "To boob jobs."
Our laughter erupted and for the next ten minutes we giggled over toasts to boob jobs, big fucking feds and the big house, dissipating our nervous energy. Thank you, Annette. And, of course, perfect tits. Thank you, George.
"I don't know about you," George grinned, "but all that excitement worked up an appetite. I'm starving."
My stomach grumbled at the thought. "Me too."
"How about we go to a diner? There's one about ten minutes from here. After we get cleaned up, of course."
"That would be lovely," I readily agreed, as my mind relived the many times we'd showered together.
On the way through the kitchen, George picked up his phone. "Hmm, a message from Chuck, 'Give me a call. We caught a case'...I did want to talk to him anyway."
"Do you mind if I give him a call?" George continued as we entered the bedroom.
"Go ahead. Probably best to deal with it now. Like you said, you wanted to speak with him...and don't leave out our visit from Annette."
"Believe me. I won't."
He dialed and sat in his desk chair. I heard Chuck answer, "Good morning, George. Thanks for getting back to me."
"Hi, Chuck. No problem. I need to talk to you too. Linda's here and I've got you on speaker. I hope that's okay, now that she knows what we really do to earn our money."
"Indeed," Chuck concurred. "You never can tell, having an intelligent woman on our side could be beneficial."
"Flatterer" I blurted out.
"So, what's the new case?" asked George.
"Jack Thompson, an old friend of mine called. He's done a few of start-up businesses, then sold them. Made a piss pot of money in the process. It seems one of his partners in the latest venture made off with about four mil. He just doesn't know which one and asked if I, or should I say, we, could help."
"Sure, but even if he's an old friend, I wouldn't want to make any guarantees..."
"He understands. We get one mil, just for the effort and the whole four if we're successful. To him, it's chump change. Jack takes betrayal very personally. I know why but can't tell you. Suffice to say, I don't blame him."
"Wow! That's great. The money, I mean, not the other stuff." George said excitedly.
"Yeah, I know what you meant. I thought that would get your attention. He's locked down their systems since Saturday and set up a special administrator account for you. All the details are in a secure email and link I sent you just a while ago. Just one thing. I agreed we'd go down to see him in DC and meet first thing on Friday morning with a progress report. We can take an Acela down on Thursday evening. Trust me, the train's actually easier and more relaxed than the hassle of flying. I hope Linda can spare you for the night."
I nodded my approval.
"Okay. Linda's good with that. I'll get on it this afternoon. We haven't eaten yet today." George advised, giving me a wink.
"Perfect. So, what's on your mind?" asked Chuck.
George recapitulated our morning - my sleeplessness over the Rizzo brothers, but kindly omitting my parental concerns, and our session with the punching bag. When he finally recounted an edited version of our confrontation with Annette, I stood before George and peeled off my sports bra, cupped my breasts in my hands and gleefully mouthed, "Perfect."
George grinned and leaned too far back in his chair, nearly tipping over, knocking the phone off the desk as he steadied himself. I slapped my hands to my mouth to stifle my laughter.
"You still there? Everything okay?" asked Chuck in alarm.
"Everything's fine," George replied as I resumed caressing my breasts and swaying my hips seductively. "Couldn't be better. Perfect you might say. I just lost my balance and knocked the phone on the floor."
"That's a relief. Anyway, is there anything you want me to do about Annette?"
"Her, no. I'm confident she got the message. But...I promised Linda to add some security cams and alarms to the house. Do you know someone who can do that before we leave for DC?"
"Yeah, I know a guy. Really good and very discreet. I'll text you his info. He'll know to expect your call."
"Thanks."
"Most welcome, George. If I were in your shoes, I'd do the same thing...Actually, I already did that to my house. Same guy too."
"I really appreciate it."
"Me too," I added.
"I'll let you know if I find anything," George concluded.
"I know you will," Chuck replied confidently. "Oh, and one more thing. If you do find the culprit, you'll personally get a million out of the settlement as a special thanks."
"Holy shit, that's generous! This is one time, thanks a million is literally accurate."
"Don't thank me, thank Jack. He was insistent when I told him about you, and wanted to provide strong motivation."
"Consider me motivated."
"Don't count your eggs before they're chickens."
"I know, but still...damn!"
"Okay, you kids have fun. I'll talk to you later. Bye."
"Bye," we said in unison as George ended the call.
"You fucking genius," I said smiling stupidly, leaning over and planting a big kiss on his lips.
"I know," George teased, reaching out to lightly pinch my nipples. "Your perfect tits just bring it out in me."
"You know," I said slyly as I knelt in front of his chair and hooked my fingers in the waistband of his shorts, "You've got something perfect too."
George raised his hip to assist my effort. And there it was. His big beautiful cock, rising to the occasion. Seems my display left him as horny as I was.
"Yup," I said as kissed the head. "Still perfect."
He moaned softly as I took him deeply in my mouth, sucking and adoring its swelling.
"One more thing," he said as a gentle hand under my chin raised my eyes to his. "Your perfect tits have not been properly introduced to my perfect cock."
"I like the sound of that. What do you have in mind?"
"Let's get naked and I'll show you." His cock now stiff and oh so inviting, I stood and followed his orders as he finished what I'd already started.
Without a word, he gently steered me to the side of the bed, pushing me onto my back, my legs dangling on the edge at my knees.
"Hmm...salty," he remarked as he suckled on each nipple.
Climbing on the bed, kneeling with his legs aside my torso, he trapped my arms, his ass on my belly and his hard cock between my boobs. Slowly rotating his hips, he dragged the tip across each breast, stabbing at my hard pink nipples.
"Perfect tits. This is perfect cock."
"So pleased to meet you," I responded, raising my chest to greet the pressure of his cock against my tits, and the slapping on my nipples. "The pleasure is all mine."
Leaning forward, he presented the tip to my lips and I drew it into my mouth.
"Make it wet," he demanded, slowly pushing deeper into my mouth, saliva rising as the spongy head pressed at my throat. Slowly withdrawing, a string of spit followed his cock down to my right nipple, their slick union summoning my soft moans. That perfect cock returned to my mouth repeatedly until my tits were soaked.
I moaned as his cock divinely punished my breasts, dragging the head across them, wet smacks echoing as he paddled my nipples, driving my need for release.
Snaking my hands under his ass, my fingers found my sodden pussy, slipping between the smooth lips and homing in on my erect clit.
"Find what you were looking for, you naughty bitch?" he teased as he squeezed my boobs together, capturing his cock.
"Oh, yes. Now fuck my tits, you horny bastard!"
He eagerly complied, pumping his cock between them, pinching my nipples when he forced himself deep into my throat, returning with additional lubrication. It was not only erotic, but spectacularly messy - his big hard cock, drenched in my spit, sliding between my boobs, attacking my stiff nipples, invading my willing mouth. The squishy sounds of his cock between my tits and my fingers working over my cunt provided the perfect accompaniment.
"Oh fuck, yes," I cried in my climaxed as he pinched the base of a nipple, rubbing and smacking his cockhead upon it. "Cum for me...cum on my tits."
My plea was summarily answered.
"Take my cum," he hissed as ropes of it landed across my boobs, stretching up to my chin and lips. Once spent, he raised up and squeezed the last drops into my welcoming mouth.
"Hmm...salty," I smiled, licking my lips.
George snorted. "I think that was a perfect introduction, wouldn't you say?"
"Perfection is my stock and trade," I teased as he rose to his knees and pulled my fingers to his lips, sucking on them one at a time.
"Yum...not salty...reminds me of how hungry I am. I think we've burned enough calories this morning to earn a lumberjack breakfast."
"Yeah, felling a tree is hard work," I teased as I took his softening cock in hand.
"And scaling the peaks of perfection," he retorted, squeezing a boob with each hand.
Giggling like idiots, George brought us to our feet, wrapped his arms around me and kissed me, tenderly at first, then aggressively and deeply.
"Back to salty," he noted as we peeled apart, the combination of sweat, spit and cum resisting our separation.
*****
"Son of a bitch!"
George's exclamation roused me from my slumber.
"Everything okay?" I asked groggily, spying George at his desk, barefoot, dressed in just black shorts and a red tee shirt, his eyes skipping over the three glowing monitors before turning to me. Although I was still in a fog, I now recalled George stripping me and putting me to bed with a lovely massage serving as anesthesia.
"Very much okay...sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
"Probably time for me to get up anyway. What time is it?"
"A little after four. You were really out. Not that you didn't need it."
"I sure did," I confirmed - between sleep deprivation, the hectic morning, a delightfully hot shower and a hearty, albeit late, breakfast, I'd earned it - adding a yawn as I stretched, "So what have you been up to?"
"First, I spoke to the security guy Chuck recommended. He'll be here on Wednesday. He assured me he can do it all in one day."
"Thanks for that."
"No problem. Your wellbeing is my greatest concern. Then, I switched to techno-nerd mode. I've been scraping the drives at Jack Thompson's office - you know the guy we talked about with Chuck this morning..."
"How could I forget this morning?"
"Yeah, color me foolish. Anyway, I found some traces of deleted files...you know that when you delete a file it doesn't really disappear until it's written over or shredded. From that, I uncovered an otherwise unknown admin user account. A sort of super-admin account. So, our perpetrator was not as clever as he thought. Overconfident perhaps...or maybe he was lazy...or figured he could cover his tracks over the holiday weekend...or was afraid of getting caught and exited before he could cover his tracks. Whatever it was, I've got a lead."
"Hopefully, a million-dollar lead," I chimed in as I got out of bed and walked over to him. "Show me."
"How am I supposed to do that? You're distracting me."
"I don't know...the fucking genius cyber sleuth tracking down criminals with his perfectly titted hot babe girlfriend standing naked beside him...sounds perfect to me."
"Hmm...so maybe when this is over, we can make a graphic novel about it and put your illustrating skills to work."
"Now I'm getting distracted...it would have to be a very graphic novel...so, anyway show me what you've got."
"Okay. First the case, then I'll show you what I've really got."
"How could I refuse?"
His cursor flitted from screen to screen, highlighting text here and there.
"Deal. So, I've found a hidden admin. The username is ZVBXRPL."
"ZV...what?"
"Yeah, at first blush it seems gibberish, but old movie geeks like me recognize it as the horse racing tip Chico sells to Groucho in the Marx Brothers movie A Day at the Races.
"Okay...and?
"Well, ZVBXRPL is a code and the way the movie goes, it means Burns unless the horse is a filly. So I tried Burns as the password. It didn't work."
"So, it was a dead end?"
"Not really. The rest of the routine goes..." George switched to what I presume were his impressions of Groucho and Chico. I don't know how authentic he was, but it was entertaining. "How do I know the horse is a filly? You need a breeder's guide, doc...Turns out breeder's guide is the password - just all strung together."
"So, you're telling me that cracking the case revolves around your old movie passion, not any fucking genius technical voodoo?"
"In part. I still had to find the sneaky admin account, but once I did, I tracked down the entries showing how everything went down. The money went to an offshore account. Ownership unknown."
"Fucking genius status restored," I teased in a mock synthetic voice.
"Don't get too excited yet. I still don't know who at Jack's office created the account."
"Seems like standard Columbo work to me. All you gotta do is trip up the perpetrator. Get him to unknowingly admit to his Marx Brothers fetish."
"See, Chuck was right. Beauty and brains," George teased. Sort of. The glint in his eyes portrayed a sincere compliment. "I should give him a call. Wait...how do you know about Columbo."
"My parents like it. So give Chuck a call...and then you can show me what you've really got."
He grinned broadly as he dialed Chuck while I lied down on the bed and bent my knees up, providing George a front row view of my pussy.
With Chuck on speaker, George relayed his findings and my thoughts. Meanwhile, I did my best to encourage a quick resolution, rolling over on my hands and knees with my ass facing George, knowing it was his favorite view. My attention was no longer focused on the phone call, although I did half listen.
Once Chuck had the details, he said, "Great work, George, and top-notch thinking on Linda's part. You guys make quite a team."
"Thanks, Chuck," I said after a short delay - probably louder than necessary - it had taken a while for the compliment to penetrate my preoccupation. I hope he didn't read too much into it. Now back to business...reaching back and spreading my ass open for George's benefit. I turned my head to ensure I'd garnered his attention. I just wanted to feel that big cock in me.
"I'll talk to Jack about your findings," Chuck continued. "And plot our scheme to trap the perp. From our days when dinosaurs roamed the earth, I'm sure we'll figure it out. Won't be our first rodeo. On the train, I can brief you on whatever your part might be."
"Sounds good to me," George agreed.
"Perfect," Chuck concluded, "I'll be in touch with the train details at the very least."
George winked at me with Chuck's unwitting remark, "Okay, talk to you later."
"Later it is and thanks." Chuck disconnected the call.
"Things are starting to look up with the case, but more importantly, so is your ass," George said as he walked up behind me and ran his fingers along the length of my pussy and across my rosebud.
I shuddered at his touch, my hips pushing back towards him and cooing softly.
His hands pressed to the bed on either side of my shoulders, his warm breath caressed my ear.
"Someone's got her mojo back," he whispered.
"I never could have done it without you, but the real question is, what are you going to do about it?"
Wordlessly, he rose and pushed my shoulders down to the bed, exposing my pussy and ass even further. He must have knelt behind me as the next thing I knew, his tongue traced from my clit, across my smooth lips to caress my rosebud.
"Oh, yes," I sighed, "Don't stop."
Spreading me with his fingers, he aggressively licked my cunt, then sucked my lips in deeply, finishing his tongue's journey by circling my asshole and strongly probing it.
I whimpered as he withdrew and was met with a sudden smack on my ass, summoning a wanton "Ohhh!"
"So, you're back to being my naughty bitch?" he demanded, slapping my other ass cheek, followed by the slightest stroking of his fingers along my pussy, that cruelly withdrew as I pushed back.
"Hnn," I lamented. "Yes, I'll always be your naughty bitch."
His light caressing returned, and I resisted my inclination to emphasize his touch, submitting to his erotic torment, enflaming my desire.
"What do you want?"
"I want you to fuck me...please," I implored.
Another slap on my ass. "And where do you want me to fuck you?"
"In my cunt."
"In your hot, juicy cunt?" Smack!
"Yes, in my hot juicy cunt!" I cried, in exasperation as his fingers continued their magic.
Two quick swats on my ass. "Ask nicely."
"Goddammit, George! Please...please fuck my naughty cunt with your big hard cock!"
His fingers departed and I heard him yanking off his clothes.
"Here it comes, bitch!" he roared, ramming his cock completely into me, his hips colliding with my ass, while his hands seized my waist, locking me in place.
"Ah," I cried in delighted surprise. "Oh god, I love your big cock. Now fuck me and pound my hot juicy cunt!"
Of course he didn't. Instead, he kept his hips pressed to my ass and rotated that big cock, stirring maddeningly within me.
"Please," I begged, my frustration growing as he slowly withdrew, still firmly holding my hips in place.
Wham! George slammed his cock back into me, repeatedly - an agonizingly slow withdrawal followed by a brutal intrusion - just what I wanted.
"Yes! That's it. Fuck me."
"Your cunt belongs to me, bitch!" he seethed accompanied by a quick slap to each cheek.
"Take it. It's yours. Take my cunt with your big hard cock."
Damn, I loved the pounding he delivered. I know it hadn't been that long since the last time, but it seemed forever, and I quaked with the orgasm coiling in my loins.
"Oh fuck!" I cried, "I'm cumming all over your big cock."
"Yeah, bitch. Cum for me."
Fortunately, he still had a firm grip on my waist, or else I would have collapsed and regretted losing the hammering at my pussy, but it unexpectedly stopped - replaced again by spiraling of his wonderful cock.
"Are you ready for more, naughty girl?"
"Yes...please," I replied between gasps.
"There's one hole I haven't used yet today."
"You know I love your cock in my ass...It's yours...Take it."
"Show me." He commanded.
With some effort in my weakened state, I reached back and spread my ass crudely, the anticipation gnawing at my fiber - being naughty for him the ultimate aphrodisiac.
George briefly withdrew...I heard the nightstand drawer open and the familiar snap of the lube bottle.
"Tell me what you want, you sexy bitch."
"Please fuck my ass...can't you see my hole inviting your cock?"
"Invitation accepted," he teased.
A short steam of cool lube ran between my cheeks, sending a shiver up my spine. Was it the temperature or the thrill of what was to follow? Probably both. His slick, rubbery cockhead pressed at my rosebud, only briefly before easily gaining entrance. I must be getting better at this. Well, at least compared to the first time he took my ass.
With tender determination, George slid into me until his hips greeted my ass. Sure, I'm getting better, but that hasn't made his cock any smaller - the unique fullness was still intense. And gratifying.
"Fuck you're a hot bitch," he murmured. "I love seeing you spread your ass and filling it with my cock."
"I love it when you stuff my naughty ass with your cock. Now use it."
He took his time, slowly pulling out all but the tip and patiently returning. When he took hold of my hips, I seized the opportunity for my right hand to seek out my clit.
"Oh god! Yes," I sighed. "Fuck my ass like you mean it."
A slap on my ass greeted my request.
"You want me to use your ass?"
"Yes."
"Fuck it deep and hard?" Another slap.
Between the stimulation of my clit and ass, I wanted nothing more.
"Please!" I demanded. "Take my ass. Stretch me out with your big cock."
George quickened his pace, his cock pistoning relentlessly into my ass, his savage strokes mandating that I rub my clit aggressively.
"Damn, I love fucking your ass," he groaned, as he now completely removed his cock on each stroke. My rosebud offered no resistance on his return. I imagined my gaping hole welcoming his cock, as I'd seen in one of the videos he'd taken. Delightfully debauched, spurring me to yet another climax.
"Oh...oh...ugh...yes!" I wailed. "Cum for me, fill my ass with your spunk."
Waves of pleasure washed over me, but wait...he pulled out? George growled and suddenly, my rosebud was bathed in his warm cum. I flinched briefly, my nerves beguiled by feeling it run into my ass.
"Oh, George, you kinky bastard. That's so fucking hot." I exclaimed as the last jets landed.
"Got that right you naughty bitch. Your ass stretched out and covered with cum."
"Take a picture. I gotta see."
Faster than a jackrabbit on a date, I heard George fetch his phone.
"Spread your naughty ass, bitch," he commanded. Familiar clicks followed.
"Show me," I said as I rolled off the bed and stood beside him, one leg twitching as his cum ran down the back of my thigh. "Oh my god! You did that to me?" I gave him a playful slap on his ass. "That is, umm...my naughtiest yet. We'll have to reserve some time for posting them along with the therapy session. You've been lax."
"Oh, it's my fault?"
I gave him a quick hug and kiss, adding, "Okay, we've been lax...Now I gotta go clean up," as I awkwardly walked to the bathroom, hoping nothing dripped on the floor. A few tissues later, I returned and leapt onto the bed, lying down next to him and nestling my grinning head upon his shoulder. His arm reached out and pulled me closer.
"It's damned good to have you back," he sighed happily. "You know, compared to the way I found you this morning."
"Yeah, I really was in a funk."
"It happens. The important thing is that we worked through it."
"Thanks for that. Maybe even thanks Annette."
George snorted. "I doubt she'd reciprocate."
"I don't care. As long as you keep reciprocating, I'll be fine."
Our joint burst of laughter made my recovery complete. Like they say, it's the best medicine.
Once it subsided, George absently said, "You know, I should probably do something about dinner...but in reality, I just want to stay in bed with you."
"Works for me," I replied softly, adding with a grin, "Besides, I might need more reciprocation."
"Perfect," he confirmed, returning the smile, and giving me a squeeze.
Author's note: For those who have been following this series, thank you for your patience. As always, comments sincerely appreciated
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