Chapter 6

Tuesday July 14

Mr. Demarco texted me to come by again this morning at 7:00. He met me in the foyer in his gym shorts again, and again he led me to the bathroom. I suspected that’s how it would go - that or he would be all sweaty when he fucked me - so I hadn’t taken a shower of my own before coming over.

“What would your wife think about these meetings?” I asked as I undressed. I wasn’t being sly or accusing - it was a simple casual question.

“It would drive her wild to watch me take you,” he said, just as uncomplicated. “The more aggressive I was, the better. Then when we were alone, she would fuck me ravenously while picking apart every one of your flaws.” He shrugged apologetically. “She might even want to try you out herself. But I’m not ready to share yet.”

“Is that what adult relationships are like?” I said, surprised to be hearing such a frank assessment.

“Not most of them,” he said. “Most marriages are what you see in the sitcoms. Or worse - reality TV.”

“What about you?” Mr. Demarco asked, putting his finger under my chin once we had stepped into the shower. “You’ve got a boyfriend, right? What would he think?”

“I don’t know,” I said, feeling suddenly vulnerable. “It scares me to think about it.”

“He doesn’t need to know,” he stated.

We fucked again - anal in the shower, like before. He shampooed my hair again, which not only loosened me up, but also sort of put me in the mood. Then he kissed my neck and chest all over. He was teasing me, acting like any second he was going to suck my nipples. I wanted him to, but he never did. Then he prepped my asshole with his fingers - a much quicker affair this time; then I was sitting in his lap with his stiff cock up my ass.

I made some more conversation while I pumped his cock with my body. “I know it’s my imagination, but last time I felt like I could feel your come inside my ass, still warm, all day long.”

“You just wait ‘til winter,” he retorted. “It’ll keep you warm better than eggnog.” A part of my brain tried to consider the idea that he would still be blackmailing me and fucking me by winter. What were his plans? But it was hard to be too cerebral with all of the sparkly achy feel-good sensations going on in my lower body.

I don’t know what it was, but I noticed that I was riding him faster this time. “Damn, Lexi, you’re really in the spirit of it today!” Mr. Demarco remarked. He stood us up, guiding me with his cock, but instead of leading me to the railing, he aimed me at a flat section of wall. For the rest of the experience, I was sandwiched flat between the tile wall and Mr. Demarco’s hard body, being fucked with mighty upward thrusts into my ass. The pressure on my chest made it hard to take deep breaths, but I still managed to moan loudly as I came. I sort of got lost in the orgasm. When Mr. Demarco came a minute later, and I felt the rush of hot liquid shooting inside of me, I realized that I was totally suspended - my feet weren’t touching the ground.

We both did normal shower stuff after that, washing ourselves and not really paying much attention to each other. I did stop to watch him shave though. I didn’t know that men shaved in the shower - I thought only women did. It certainly felt different watching Mr. Demarco now than it ever had watching my dad shave when I was little.

I cooked breakfast again and ate with Mr. Demarco in his home office, while his face stayed glued to his computer. This time, though, it was less about some neurochemical bonding high than about furthering my hacks. I managed to press the WPS button on his WiFi router, granting network access to my phone. He didn’t notice. And on the way to the kitchen to fetch more coffee, I took note of the make and model of his TV and remote control.

He wants me to come over again on Thursday morning. Carrie - his wife - is working out of town Monday through Friday most weeks this summer, and so he appreciates having me available to tide him over during the week.

I wonder what would happen if I said no? He’s had his fun. Surely he’ll forgive my crime at some point, right? Or maybe not. Maybe he’ll keep using me until the fall semester starts and I go off to college again. Maybe he’ll insist that I come back to town for winter and spring breaks to be his fuck-toy again then. Maybe he won’t even let me go back to college. Okay, that last part doesn’t seem reasonable, but the rest of it could happen.

Wednesday July 15

I found a guy on eBay who sells a small infrared recorder device that he makes in his garage. I guess they’re useful for amateur robot competitions or something. I took the day off work and drove 150 miles to buy one from him in person, not wanting to wait three days for delivery. I’ve played around with it enough to make sure it works. Now I just need to hide it, and find a way to force Mr. Demarco to enter his media center password into his TV again.

Thursday July 16

I wore a skirt to Mr. Demarco’s house this morning. Normally I don’t wear skirts unless I’m dressing up, but ... I just felt like it. I was also wearing a scoop-neck T-shirt.

Mr. Demarco wasn’t sweaty when he met me this morning. He was wearing some pajama pants, and his hair was mussed like he had just woken up. His breath smelled minty, though.

“Lady’s choice, today,” he said. “How would you like to do it this time, Alexis?” It was weird hearing him use my real name like that. He had always called me Lexi, except in formal situations like in front of other lawyers.

“Um, I don’t know. In bed would be nice. Missionary?”

“You’ve got it,” he said.

He lead me to his bedroom. “Lay on the bed, legs crossed. Now smile at me - excellent. Now, slowly lift your skirt. Stop!” He was standing at the foot of the bed. He stopped me when my panties were probably just barely visible from his point of view.