Jason leaned back in his computer chair, sprawling his long legs out in front of him. “We waltzed right into the bank without researching what to expect.”
Yeah, that had been her idea, but honestly, Jason could analyze the smallest problem to death. If she had to wait for him to act, nothing would get done. She’d said “no punches pulled,” so she wrote “no research” on the board. “Then again, someone sat idly by while the Larry the Robot almost fucked the truth out of me.”
She wrote “sat idly by” on the board.
Jason glared at her for a moment. “If we’d done our research, we would have known there was a Larry the Robot.”
“Oh, right. Maybe I should have called the bank ahead of time to ask if they had automatic security walls and a robot with a pneumatic penis.”
“We could have scoped the place out.” Jason got up, took the marker from her, and scrawled “scope out” on the board.
“Well, you could have done something so I didn’t have to sing folk songs to distract myself from the shtupping I was getting from Larry.” She grabbed the marker and wrote “do something.”
“We had it under control. Everything would have been fine if Blanche hadn’t recognized us.” He took the marker back and wrote “Blanche.”
They both stared at the word. He was right. Despite some slip-ups, they’d made it through the initial tests only to be thwarted when Blanche had recognized them.
“Tell me again why we didn’t hide our identities around her?” Felicity said.
“I don’t think that occurred to either of us,” Jason answered. “And, you know what else? Mrs. Marker at the bank knows that Wonderslut‘s last name is Plumswindle.”
“And she’s probably passing that information on to Sly as we speak.“ Her stomach sank. “Fabulous. Just fabulous.”
“And the fact that Wonderslut is on his trail.” Jason gave her a sick smile. “I guess we really are lovers, not fighters.”
“Well, maybe he’ll make things easy by coming to us.” Lord only knew what they’d face if he did. She hadn’t seen him for years. He’d been wicked in the good ways as well as the bad back then. He could exercise even more power over people now. She shivered.
Jason rubbed a hand over her back. “What do you want to do now?”
“What we’re good at. Let’s find someone who’s having a sex problem and help them, or him, or her.” Felicity followed Jason to the computer and looked over his shoulder as he pulled up Wonderslut’s e-mail. As usual, several people offered to enlarge her penis. A couple of barristers in Africa had financial deals for her. She’d won a few lotteries, too.
One subject line held promise, even if it was spam. It simply said “My husband’s bra size.” She pointed to it. “Open that one.”
“Dear Wonderslut,” it began. “I recently lost a lot of weight through exercise and dieting.”
Great, a weight loss scam. Still, she kept reading.
“That ought to be good, right?” the letter went on. “You’d think so, but you’d be WRONG. I still get catalogues for plus sized clothing, and I discovered that my husband’s been using them. Last week, I got a 48C bra in the mail. 48! When I laughed and showed it to John, he turned three shades of red. He’d ordered the thing for himself.”
“Cross dresser,” Jason said.
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“His wife seems to think so,” Jason said.
“She needs to lighten up a bit.” Felicity went back to reading.
“John wants to dress up and play house with me as the husband. After five years of perfectly normal marriage, I don’t recognize my darling man any longer. Can you help us? Can you straighten him out? Signed, Pouting Paula.” That was followed by an address in DesMoines.
“What do you think?” Jason said.
“I think we can help them but not by straightening John out. Instead, we’ll install a few kinks in Paula,” Felicity said. “You fuel up the Slutmobile. I’m going to pack several changes of clothes. Just what we need to lift our spirits…a little role play.”
*
Per procedure, they flew in to a remote location and drove into the city using freeways, like everyone else. No one in DesMoines would find anything unusual about a crimson Maserati driving around the suburbs, right? John and Paula had a nice, little place with a picket fence and a garden gnome on the lawn. Felicity parked the Slutmobile in front of the garage and led Jason, who was carrying the bag she’d packed, along the flagstone path to the kitchen door.
When it opened, a tall man dressed in a housedress and apron answered. The look didn’t work completely, given his bald head, but she was there to help, not to judge.
“Wonderslut,” he said. “Paula said you’d come.”
She’d lost count over the years of how many times people had expressed surprise that she’d come and how many awful jokes like “not yet, but I will” she’d made. She didn’t make one now, and she put an elbow into Jason’s ribs before he could. He grunted and set the suitcase down.
“Paula,” John called over his shoulder. “We have guests.”
Paula entered, and it took every bit of control Felicity had not to fall out laughing. Jason chortled, so she gave him the elbow again. Paula was wearing what was obviously one of John’s suits. The sleeves hung past her fingers, and the pants cuffs scuffed against the floor as she walked. Someone either drunk or blind had done up the tie.
“You two are new to this, huh?” Felicity asked.
Paula pulled a hand out of its sleeve so she could push some hair out of her face. “I don’t want to do this at all.”
“That’s a real mistake, Paula, and I‘m going to tell you why.” Felicity went to the woman and draped an arm over her shoulder. “Do you remember all the cra…uh…stuff you were taught about how to take care of your husband when he comes home from work?”
“Meet him at the door with his slippers and a drink?” Paula recited. “Ask him about his day?”
“Exactly. If John’s playing the wife, he has to do all that for you,” Felicity said. “Give it a try. Pretend you’ve just come home and you’re bushed.”
A big smile flashed across John’s face. “Do it, honey.”
“Okay, well…” Paula fidgeted for a moment. “I’m so tired. I had an awful day.”
John rushed forward and put his arm around Paula, guiding her to a chair at the kitchen table. Once he had her seated, Felicity bent to whisper into her ear. “Tell him you’d like a martini.”
“I don’t like martinis.”
“Whatever you do like then.” Brother. Why should it be so hard to get Paula to ask to be spoiled? Most women would kill to get the sort of treatment John offered. For heaven’s sake, he was hovering over her, playing the dutiful wife. A dutiful wife with the beginnings of a nice boner, if the rise of his apron below his waist was what Felicity thought it was. This did really turn him on. Now, she only had to make the experience turn Paula on, too.
“I’ll have a glass of white wine,” Paula said.
John jumped into action, getting a bottle from the refrigerator and then pulling a glass down from a cabinet. As he used a corkscrew to open the wine, he glanced at Paula over his shoulder. “Henderson give you a hard time today?”
“Henderson?” Paula said. “Oh, yes. Your boss. Very hard.”
A bit more action under the apron said John was ready and willing to give her a hard time, too. Another bad joke. She had to get out of that habit.
John took the wine to Paula. “Anything else I can do for you, dear?”
Felicity bent to Paula’s ear again. “What’s for dinner?”
Paula thought for a moment, and her expression brightened. “What’s for dinner?”
“Meat loaf? I can make something else if you want.”
“Meat loaf’s fine,” Paula said.
“And I’d like a blow job,” Felicity whispered into Paula’s ear.
“And I’d like a…what?” Paula jerked, making her wine slosh in the glass.
Felicity winked elaborately at Paula. “Wouldn’t a blow job help you to relax?
“But…but…we’re in the kitchen,” Paula said.
“Trust me. It feels good in the kitchen, too,” Felicity said.
“I could do that, honey,” John offered. The state of his apron said clearly that his cock could use some loving, too.
“With people looking on?” Paula said.
“Don’t worry about us. We’ve seen it all.“ Felicity patted her on the shoulder. “We’ll just fade into the woodwork.”
She motioned for Jason to join her and then led him back to the refrigerator. From here, Paula wouldn’t be able to watch them watching her. John had already dropped to his knees in front of his wife’s chair. He pulled his own trousers down her legs and took them off and then buried his face in her muff. After a few seconds of nervousness, Paula settled into the spirit of what was going on between her pussy lips and sagged back in the chair, her expression soft with bliss.
“Should we leave them to it?” Jason whispered.
“Let’s stick around for a while. After she comes, we can get into some costumes and join the games,” Felicity said.
Jason watched the action for a few moments. As Paula became more and more excited, John used a free hand to lift his skirts and began playing with his erection. If he kept that up, they’d both climax pretty soon.
“Isn’t this making you horny?” Jason asked.
“Always,” she answered. “I do love my job.”
Will Paula learn to enjoy playing the husband? What costumes has Felicity packed into the bag? Will John’s meatloaf serve four?
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