Jenn's Coverup
Chapter 2: The Discovery

Copyright© 2012 by neff trebor

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 2: The Discovery - Jenn is forced into humiliating sex situations and blackmail to save her family after the 9/11 attack.

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Coercion   Blackmail   Heterosexual   Mystery   Wimp Husband   Wife Watching   Humiliation   Group Sex   Black Male   First   Cream Pie   Exhibitionism   Size   Prostitution  

Several months went by, and Jenny was able to collect several million dollars after her husband was declared legally dead, along with several thousand others who were known to be in the buildings. There were also millions of dollars in potential class action lawsuits that would eventually be collected.

Although they hadn't been legally married, she and her daughter had lived with him in the same residence for almost fourteen years, and in the eyes of New York law, they were legally married. Stephanie's birth certificate had Joe's name as the declared father, so in any event, she was his legal daughter, and Jenny was her legal guardian.

Sam thought he had clear sailing with Jenny, now that Joe was out of the picture. He constantly tried all kinds of approaches to go out with Jenny, but she was adamant that she did not want to have anything to do with him.

Sam was disappointed with his lack of results in pursuing Jenny. He was working late one night, and tried to see if he could get into Jenny's or Joe's records. Through lots of trial and error; and sheer luck, he was able to track down some of Joe's offshore accounts. He noticed that the numbers for deposits and withdrawals fluctuated. The account information did not match money in or out of the accounts Jenny was using.

Sam did not feel Jenny was responsible for all the activity in all the accounts. He hired a forensic accountant to analyze the figures. The accountant confirmed Sam's suspicions. Sam gave him a credit card and told him to go to Canada and see if they were right.

The accountant returned a few weeks later with photos and addresses. He was able to show that Joe was staying at a small fishing village on the north side Prince Edward Island.

A few days later, Sam called Jenny into his office. "Close the door Jenny." Sam said as she sat down.

Jenny was wearing a dark charcoal pantsuit with faint thin pin-striping through it. Her long hair had two very small braids that started at her temples that were pulled back and connected at the back of her head to hold the rest of her reddish-brown hair so part of it cascaded down her back, and the rest hung down her front to hide her long pearl necklace that wound several times around her neck and stopped at the middle of her breasts. She had high heeled suede boots that went to just below her knees. She played nervously with the triple strands of pearls that hung around her neck to the bottom of her breasts. Her purple silk blouse fit loosely to conceal her breasts and her wire rimmed glasses helped to create a modest image that fit her financial planner image.

Sam had grown envious of Joe's wife during the time they had all been together. He had gotten to know her during a number of social events at the office. He had seen her in her bikini when he had put on some pool parties. He knew that Jenny had been on the college track and cross country teams. She could run a mile under five minutes and the 300m high hurdles in about 33 seconds.

She had excellent muscle tone; her calves (gastrocnemius) were pronounced; her legs tapered back in slightly above her knees; the bicep muscles in her upper legs tapered back as they went to her glutes; her hips were narrow, like a young boy. She had the gait of a leopard. Jenny did not walk like a runway model with her ass sashaying all over the place. She had moderate to small breasts that were her own; not the surgically enhanced ones that seem to be standard issue seen on television actresses. Her skin tone was a healthy tan that highlighted her rippling abs that left men panting.

She hardly looked like a woman old enough to have a fourteen-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Stephanie, who seemed to be an exact clone of her mother. Stephanie was still growing, so her legs were still quite slim, and her breasts were a little smaller. The difference might be that Jenny was much more conservatively dressed and Stephanie had the "little girl" innocent, "Lolita" type of wanton appearance that so many girls her age seemed to have.

Jenny was constantly telling Stephanie to "Go back upstairs and change into something more appropriate for school!" when she appeared at the kitchen table wearing tight Levi cutoffs, high-heeled-leather boots that she had liberated from her mother's closet, and a form-fitting blouse without a bra, tied to expose her bare midriff.

"Jenny; I've been having a crush on you for quite some time. I've probably noticed you since the first day you came into this office. Are you sure that you and I are not ever going to get together?" Sam asked.

Jenny gulped. She knew eventually she would have to deal with this situation. "Sam; we work together. You are a bit of a womanizer and I still haven't got over my husband being gone."

"Jenny, I think there are going to have to be some new rules around here." He said as he tossed an 8 ½" by 11" manila envelope across his table so it slid into her lap.

Jenny was offended by his arrogant behavior. She slowly opened the envelope and shrieked when she realized what she was looking at. There were a dozen pictures of her husband in different changes of clothes. His dyed hair was longer, he had a beard, and she did not recognize the rural setting he was photographed in.

She also had bank statements from accounts in Switzerland and the Bahamas that showed massive amounts of money. The accounts showed small weekly withdrawals. The photocopies of checks showed a signature she recognized. It was not Joe's real name, but she recognized the script style.

Reluctantly, Jenny realized that her husband was actually alive.

"Jenny, you and your husband are involved in criminal activity. He had defrauded the insurance company, his employer and the federal government. He has false passports, and has not paid any taxes on these accounts. As his wife, you are also liable for the same crimes."

Jenny was shaking with the sudden realization that most of what he was saying was basically true. Although she had not knowingly participated in any cover-up, she knew she could easily be convicted in court.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"You've been real uppity with me over the years, and adamant that you will have nothing to do with me. You won't be nice to me willingly, so now I see a chance for us to be friends with benefits.

We can do this in stages. Let's start with your dress. I'm going to take you out to dinner tonight, and I would like to make some suggestions. In fact, let's just go shopping together. I'll pick out the clothes for you to wear tonight. It's close enough to quitting time that we could leave now."

Jenny thought maybe she could humor him a little and maybe this would all go away. Deep down, though, she was afraid it could get a lot uglier.

The couple left the office, went down the elevator, signed out at the front desk, and walked down the street. Sam grabbed her arm and turned her into the Black Rivet. There were a lot of very tasteful looking outfits at the front door and in the display windows.

Sam pointed to a dark gray, dress with a ribbed cashmere mini that buttoned down the front. Jenny picked out a size two. Sam took a size zero and handed it to her. "I think that one is just too small." Jenny said nervously as they both walked to the bank of dressing rooms.

Sam guided her to the last one at the end of the small corridor. He opened the door and went in with the two dresses. When she tried to close the louvered screen behind her, Sam put his hand on the edge. Jenny knew he was not going to let her close the door. Jenny hung the two dresses on a hook and stood with her back to him.

"Turn around." Jenny turned to face him. She stared at him as she took her blazer off, trying to read his inner thoughts. She picked up a spare hanger and hung her blazer on it. She sat on the chair and looked up at him as she crossed her legs to take off her high heeled boots. This was stupid. She did not need to take off her boots to remove her slacks or put on the dress; but she was so nervous and was trying to procrastinate the removal of any other clothes.

"Forget the boots, Jenn."

Jenny knew her stalling had not worked. She unbuttoned her slacks and scooted her butt off the chair high enough to slide down the slacks. She folded them and placed them on the lower spindle of the wooden hangar holding her blazer. The fact that she was sitting, and had long shirt-tails on her blouse, helped cover her somewhat. She was wearing some grey silk stockings that went within an inch of her crotch. The top elastic was woven into a decorative lace band that held them without any sag.

Sam reached out and extended his hand. He grabbed hers and guided her to stand. "Take off the blouse." He said firmly. Jenny continued to meet his gaze, imploring him with a look of panic and despair, as she reached for the top one. One by one, she slowly unbuttoned the silk blouse. Her eyes watered as she slid one shoulder out of the blouse. Jenny slid the blouse off and held it in front of her as she reached for another hanger. She tried to hold it in front of her as she put it on the hangar.

Her bra was made of sheer translucent nylon; the same as most common pantyhose. Her long pink nipples pushed tight against the thin fabric. She tried to cover herself with her hands.

Sam grabbed her wrist with a grip that almost broke them; and was so tight she could hardly open her hands. He swung her arm down; away from her breasts. Jenny stood with her head down and her arms at her sides.

Jenny's thong underwear was made of the same sheer panty hose material as her bra, and did little to hide her reddish brown pubic hair. It had been trimmed and shaved to fit within the tiny thong. She instinctively covered her vagina with her hands when she remembered how sheer it was.

Jenny turned to pick up the dress she had picked out. Sam stopped her and handed her his choice. "It would never look right with the bra and panties showing underneath." He said.

Jenny's eyes started to tear as she reached behind her for the clasp. The bra seemed to explode as she snapped the clasp open. Her Brigit Fonda breasts seemed to expand one size as she tried to hold it against her. Sam held out his hand and forced her to hand it to him. He tossed it over one of the hooks.

"From now on, you don't ever wear these. Do you understand?" Jenny did not answer, but let her head drop slightly in a faint nod of acquiescence.

"Those panties would never look right either. Let's get rid of them too."

"Jenny wiped the tears from her nose; then reached down with her thumbs inside the waistband of her thong. She bent down as she slid them past her crotch. They dropped down and caught on the top edge of her boots. Jenny sat down in the chair and crossed her legs as she slid the panties over the edge of her boots. She folded them and laid them on top of her lap. She put her hands on her knees and tried to cover her hands with her face as she leaned forward to cover herself.

"Sit up! God dammit!"

Jenny straightened up. Goosebumps spread over her as she exposed herself.

Sam held out his hand again signaling her to stand. He handed her the dress. She slid it on, and buttoned the front.

She stood, trembling, in front of Sam for inspection. Her long reddish brown French braid hung down her back. The cashmere mini fit her like a glove. The hem hit her about the middle of her thighs. Jenny's Bai Ling nipples pushed tight against the top and left little to speculation about the color, length or size of them. Without the bra there was almost nothing behind the thin ribbed fabric to cover her breasts. The fabric fit snugly around the bottom of her breasts to show their exact contours.

Jenny's dress was not outrageously short by New York standards; especially on young girls, but she was a middle aged woman. Her striking looks would turn heads even in if she were wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. With her short dress she would easily stop traffic and draw whistles in any city. Sam pulled out a pen knife and cut off the bottom two buttons above the hem. That left a couple of small buttons in place just past her crotch.

Walking down the street, the slightest breeze would cause the dress to open, revealing some of the bare skin above the tops of her stockings. Even a homely woman would stop traffic with that dress. Sitting down in this dress would be an uncomfortable struggle.

Sam helped her gather her old clothes. Jenny's dress was so form fitting and her nipples so pronounced, Sam picked up a light shawl. It was about eight or ten inches wide and hung to her waist. Wrapped around her neck, it gave a slight more cover to her breasts. Sam could either let her use it for cover or make her brush it to the side, to let her nipples show. Without the shawl, she was practically naked; with her nipples straining against the fabric.

On the way out, Sam picked out a thin leather hooded jacket that matched the color and length of her dress. Jenny looked very sophisticated and tasteful as they left the store. It was much more daring than anything that she would have picked out, and certainly drew the stares of people walking by. Sam carried the bag with her old clothes in it so she couldn't use it to hide herself. When they went by a trash can, Sam threw it in.

Sam wouldn't let her button the coat, so the front of it hung open and did nothing to stop the lower part of her dress from fluttering occasionally in the wind. Normally, the men walking down the street with their wives hung back so they could stare at the wantonly dressed mannequins in display windows of "FOREVER 21."

When Sam and Jenny went by, the men were bumping into light poles because they were so mesmerized with her. The men all did double takes when they caught a glimpse of exposed flesh above the tops of her stockings when the wind blew.

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