Chapter 1

It’s rough as a real estate agent, when you move to a new city: it takes a long time to learn the neighborhoods, markets, regulations, and traffic. The first time I showed the Sex House, I didn’t know that there was anything special about it - I certainly didn’t know it by that name. All I knew was that it fit my clients’ criteria and that they wanted to see it.

The Sex House was built in the 1920’s, although it had been renovated a few times over the years. It was a 4 bedroom 2 bath brick house in a downtown-adjacent area that had been seeing a lot of new development lately. The house was fairly charming, with a beautifully sunny foyer, and a well-hedged yard that offered privacy without feeling caged-in. It suffered from some of the common faults of old houses - small kitchens, creaky floors, and closed common spaces - but the master bathroom had been remade to be decadently spacious.

The Ingles, Patrick and Gina, were a couple in their thirties. We had looked at a number of houses on previous days, but nothing had quite worked out. I knew that they were planning on having children soon, so I figured it was the fertility drugs that caused Gina’s conversation to trend toward the lecherous.

“Look at that shower!” Gina said, when we examined the master bathroom. “I bet four people could do it in there at once!” She stepped into the stall and leaned her forearms against the wall, her ass sticking out a little.

“Come on, try this out with me,” she said. She was looking at me when she said it, but I figured she must have meant her husband Patrick.

“By all means, try it out,” I said, gesturing at the stall. I’m a big believer in clients trying out the spaces in the houses they view. Patrick moved in behind Gina and grabbed her hips, giving her a couple dry-hump thrusts. “Oh yeah, this could work,” he said.

Gina beckoned for me to join them. “Come on, John - we need to see how many will fit!” It was weird, but if it helped the client visualize themselves owning the house, it was part of my job. The shower was big enough that it wasn’t a squeeze at all for me to join them inside.

“See, darling?” Patrick explained, bumping his groin into her ass again as he spoke. “Plenty of room for one man fucking you, and one at each side of you feeling you up!” He pointed at my hands when he said that last part. I wasn’t sure what he expected me to do, so I rested one hand on Gina’s shoulder. To my surprise, Gina grabbed my hand and placed it on her breast instead.

Then Gina stood up and we all exited the shower. “Are those LED bulbs?” Gina wondered aloud, her attention having wandered to the lighting fixtures.

We looked at the yard, and the kitchen again. In the livingroom, when I suggested that they could put a bar in one corner, Gina replied, “No, I think that’s the corner Patrick will stand in when he displeases me.”

When we returned to the master bedroom, Patrick made an observation about the closet doors: “Look, Gina, the closet door has those slats in it. I bet you could see the bedroom from inside the closet.”