Chapter 3

The lawn mower rumbled its way across the front lawn and Harper, already sweating in the mid-morning heat, took a slug from the rapidly warming beer in the cup holder. He'd been drinking a lot recently or so Ashley had told him the other day. Every pass he saw the habitually late rising Ashley still working on her morning coffee and reading the weekend edition in the shade of the front porch.

Ashley had a girl next-door-appeal to her even now, eight years after they first met. She was lithe, slim, and not too tall. Without heels she stood a tiny bit over 5'5". Her hips were just wide enough to give her a very soft hourglass shape. Light, curly brown hair worn a little over shoulder length, a cute button nose, and the warmest brown eyes, almost the same light shade as her hair, he'd ever gazed into all contributed to her perennially fresh faced beauty. He had been in love at first sight, though it had taken quite a bit wooing to win her over. That first summer after they'd met had been tumultuous; joyous and torturous by turn.

Harper finished his pass on the mower and his thoughts turned darker. He had succeeded in returning Ashley to normal from the silent and pliant living fleshlight Barry had made her into. She walked, talked and was free of any memory of the hellish week she spent as their former neighbor's plaything. He was glad there hadn't been much to fix. She hadn't even missed any work. Barry had sent her along with instructions to act normal to keep things from getting suspicious and ... enjoyed her every day when she got home.

That was what Harper couldn't shake. Another man running his hands over her, taking her at his leisure. It haunted him. The sad truth of it was that some part of him blamed her. Consequently, things between him and his wife had taken on an increasingly tense edge in the three weeks since he'd gotten home from Austin. She knew something was up and kept nagging him about what it was.

"What's wrong, Harper? Why won't you talk to me?" she had asked him, her voice suspended in the place between hurt and anger. Her eyes had searched his, seeking to drag out by sheer willpower whatever it was he wouldn't bring up with her.

In the end, he'd alternately deflected her questions or remained silent through her pleading which had only left her more aggrieved and resentful. Things hadn't been this bad between them since they'd found out about her infertility and she had made up her mind to leave him "for his own good".

Harper's thoughts lapsed back to Barry. Barry had gotten what he deserved. He'd lost his ridiculous muscles as well as his ability to use the Master PC program, should he ever come across another copy. Harper supposed he'd actually done him a favor with the muscle thing. The guy had looked like a parody of a man, too bulky and muscle bound to do anything involving agility or quickness. Commands were issued via the miraculous and insidious program that had also forced the man to sell his home, find a job in another city, and never to come into contact with either Harper or Ashley again. Moreover, Harper had forbidden him to ever go to the police about what happened.

It would be difficult to start life over again at Barry's age in a new city at a new job. Or so Harper hoped.

Banishing Barry from his home and life had felt good but memories of him and what he had done troubled Harper constantly.

Worse still, Harper had made a pledge to himself that he would delete the Master PC program from Barry's computer then destroy the hard drives. Now, three weeks later, he still hadn't made good on it. Every time he thought about doing it, he would find an excuse not to. Dishes, pressure washing the driveway, or finishing work that could have waited another day all became greater priorities than ridding himself of the program.

All that power, the power to change a how a person looked, felt, and acted, was just too seductive. Many times, Harper had found himself simply staring at the computer in his office, motionless, while parts of him battled over what to do with the thing. His subconscious mind had finished mowing on autopilot while the conscious part had lost itself in thought. A glance to the porch revealed Ashley had finally finished her breakfast and paper and gone inside to finish her routine. Harper steered the mower toward its home in the garage and parked it with the other yard tools his long unused free weights. A fine skin of dust lay over them.

Time for me to grab a shower, he thought as he sniffed himself.

Harper stood under the warm stream of water from the showerhead and let the various dilemmas he faced tumble around in his skull. The water was usually soothing, but today it did nothing to alleviate the tension that gripped his heart and mind in an unforgiving steel trap.

His wife's voice from outside the shower made him jump.

"You're so jumpy! Oh, don't look at me like that. I'm sorry, Harp. I swear I didn't do it on purpose. Move over and let me get in with you," she finished with a smile.

Harper mumbled a vague reply and made room as his wife discarded her towel, opened the glass door of the shower, and stepped inside. As always, Ashley looked incredible. Her lightly tanned skin was practically flawless, with only a few moles here and there. Proud and perky B-cup breasts jutted out from Ashley's chest in a gravity defying display while her tight stomach, hips accentuated by her waspish waist, and close cropped pubic hair pulled his eyes down her body and kept them there. She had her hair tied up to keep it from getting wet and Harper couldn't help but recall the myriad times he'd taken her in this very shower, her back against the glass and her hips angled to meet every one of his thrusts. Her hair had a bad habit of doing anything but staying dry in here. These unsummoned thoughts raced through his brain, displacing the dark memories and thoughts that had taken up residence there. Harper, in spite of himself, found his excitement rising.

Ashley paused as her flank brushed against his growing erection. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Turning to face him, Ashley's mouth quirked into a smirk as she brushed her fingers along Harper's swiftly swelling organ. "I haven't seen him for a little while."

"I've just been really ... tired lately", he managed. Even he could sense the hollow ring of untruth in his pathetic excuse.

Ashley pursed her lips, but continued to let her fingers caress his cock, encouraging it, convincing it to harden for her. "Tired? Mmm. I think I know one way to help with that", she said with a mischievous smile on her face.