Jordan

[guitarman]

I am following this evolving story with great interest. Crushing is to be commended for his mastery of an in-depth understanding of the life in the military as well as his near-academic knowledge of psycology and personality theory and development. That said, I'm having difficulty understanding the timeline. How did Meg go from being a schoolteacher to a prosecuting attorney and Mark go from being discharged from the Marine Corps as a demoted corporal only to return as a Captain in the same branch of service? We await clarification of these matters.

[Crushing]

I am following this evolving story with great interest. Crushing is to be commended for his mastery of an in-depth understanding of the life in the military as well as his near-academic knowledge of psychology and personality theory and development. That said, I'm having difficulty understanding the timeline. How did Meg go from being a schoolteacher to a prosecuting attorney and Mark go from being discharged from the Marine Corps as a demoted corporal only to return as a Captain in the same branch of service? We await clarification of these matters.

Hey, great question. So the overall story plan is in three parts, an/d we're in part 2. Part 2 focuses equally on two divisions of the story. First is Jordan's and David's development after their first failed hotwife/cuckold experiment. This part runs on a single timeline and runs pretty slowly pretty much a straight line (with some exceptions for childhood flashbacks and other memories that I try to mark pretty clearly). As you correctly pointed out, the second is Mark's development, which is split and which jumps back and forth between two timelines. The one we're currently on, where he is a captain and in his thirties is concurrent with Jordan's timeline--they are in different places at the same time but are working their way back toward each other in part 3. For Mark, this includes figuring out how to balance the increasingly fraught relationship with Megan and company, as well as managing his friendship with Jared and the impact those relationships have on his ability to command. All the while, he's trying to forget Jordan, who had a bigger impact on him that he wants to admit. The other Mark timeline takes place about ten or so years earlier (I think Marky is 11 at this point, so obviously about 9 months before that). This timeline focuses on his deployment and journey out of and back into the Marines, and it includes his relationships with Molly and Megan, along with another upcoming adventure, no spoilers. This of course includes Megan's schoolteacher phase (earlier) and her lawyer phase (she got accepted into Georgetown Law, and is planning to study there when Jared takes his assignment in DC). Thus, when Mark is a captain and Jared is a gunny, she is a full fledged prosecutor.

My intent in doing this is to find a way to develop Mark's character, since he seemed kind of flat to me in the beginning--his personality and moral/sexual ethics seem much more established and confident than Jordan's are when he meets her. So I wasn't quite sure how to develop him, and decided I'd do it by thoroughly exploring his past journey. To that end, I want him to have a thoroughly fleshed out backstory when he and Jordan start getting serious in part 3. I'm modeling his journey after the literary type of a knight-errant who endures different kinds of difficulties including combat, lost love, exile/excommunication, a journey back, that kind of stuff. Hence the second timeline--when he and Jordan get closer, she's going to be drawn to much more than just his sexual prowess.

Anyway, I hope that makes sense. Part 3 will begin when Mark gets back into the Marines and meets Jordan for the first time, and at that point the timelines will merge into one, and the remainder of the story in part 3 will run on a single timeline with the focus on Mark and Jordan, and the converse exploration--a deeper dive into David's real cuckold journey.

[nnjcpl2002]

Sounds good. A very sophisticated structure for your novella and useful for character development.
Can't wait!

[guitarman]

Crushing, I greatly appreciate that detailed explanation and now have a greater understanding of the evolution of this story. It's been a little like a Tom Clancey novel, jumping back and forth in a timeline. Having some family members involved in the military, I can appreciate the time it takes for promotion in rank. Although I did not serve (I was in college and then medical school and doing post-graduate residency training during the Vietnam War years), My brother retired as a Lt. Commander in the Navy and my first cousin retired as a three-star (Lt. General) in the Marines.

[lkh96]

I am following this evolving story with great interest. Crushing is to be commended for his mastery of an in-depth understanding of the life in the military as well as his near-academic knowledge of psychology and personality theory and development. That said, I'm having difficulty understanding the timeline. How did Meg go from being a schoolteacher to a prosecuting attorney and Mark go from being discharged from the Marine Corps as a demoted corporal only to return as a Captain in the same branch of service? We await clarification of these matters.

Hey, great question. So the overall story plan is in three parts, an/d we're in part 2. Part 2 focuses equally on two divisions of the story. First is Jordan's and David's development after their first failed hotwife/cuckold experiment. This part runs on a single timeline and runs pretty slowly pretty much a straight line (with some exceptions for childhood flashbacks and other memories that I try to mark pretty clearly). As you correctly pointed out, the second is Mark's development, which is split and which jumps back and forth between two timelines. The one we're currently on, where he is a captain and in his thirties is concurrent with Jordan's timeline--they are in different places at the same time but are working their way back toward each other in part 3. For Mark, this includes figuring out how to balance the increasingly fraught relationship with Megan and company, as well as managing his friendship with Jared and the impact those relationships have on his ability to command. All the while, he's trying to forget Jordan, who had a bigger impact on him that he wants to admit. The other Mark timeline takes place about ten or so years earlier (I think Marky is 11 at this point, so obviously about 9 months before that). This timeline focuses on his deployment and journey out of and back into the Marines, and it includes his relationships with Molly and Megan, along with another upcoming adventure, no spoilers. This of course includes Megan's schoolteacher phase (earlier) and her lawyer phase (she got accepted into Georgetown Law, and is planning to study there when Jared takes his assignment in DC). Thus, when Mark is a captain and Jared is a gunny, she is a full fledged prosecutor.

My intent in doing this is to find a way to develop Mark's character, since he seemed kind of flat to me in the beginning--his personality and moral/sexual ethics seem much more established and confident than Jordan's are when he meets her. So I wasn't quite sure how to develop him, and decided I'd do it by thoroughly exploring his past journey. To that end, I want him to have a thoroughly fleshed out backstory when he and Jordan start getting serious in part 3. I'm modeling his journey after the literary type of a knight-errant who endures different kinds of difficulties including combat, lost love, exile/excommunication, a journey back, that kind of stuff. Hence the second timeline--when he and Jordan get closer, she's going to be drawn to much more than just his sexual prowess.

Anyway, I hope that makes sense. Part 3 will begin when Mark gets back into the Marines and meets Jordan for the first time, and at that point the timelines will merge into one, and the remainder of the story in part 3 will run on a single timeline with the focus on Mark and Jordan, and the converse exploration--a deeper dive into David's real cuckold journey.

So...mark and jordan reconnects in part 3 (aka a 2nd relationship) OR is part 3 the beginning of the end of Mark and Jordans story that was written a couple of chapters back (meaning we already know how it ends) ??

[Crushing]

[/quote]

So...mark and jordan reconnects in part 3 (aka a 2nd relationship) OR is part 3 the beginning of the end of Mark and Jordans story that was written a couple of chapters back (meaning we already know how it ends) ??
[/quote]

Part 3 will definitely be new stuff. It will start a bit after Jordan finishes her Ph.D, and begins her career as a young professor in a new place. They will reconnect then.

[Crushing]

They had been very nice about it.

Of course Jordan was humiliated. Standing in the middle of a bright red room with all eyes on her. Having stepped way over the line of propriety and professionalism. That poor girl who looked a little bit like her still tied up in that contorted position and standing on one leg, twitching involuntarily.

All Jordan could do was apologize. In fact, she couldn't stop apologizing, and a surreal scene followed: nude women tied to various apparati around the room joined the reassuring chorus of whip and crop-wielding men in telling her that she hadn't done anything wrong.

But that poor girl just kept gasping. Her body twitching in random, irregular shocks as her dom held her firmly upright.

Professor Schenk had been very nice about it too. He had walked her upstairs to calm her down. Jeff, the owner of the home had followed them up and gotten her a glass of water.

Her face had been so red that Jeff went back for a cold washcloth, and smiled with genuine concern and compassion as she tried not to cry in embarrassment, wiping down her face.

She had apologized again, and was reassured again. The clinks, slaps, and moans had resumed and the sounds drifted up through the open doorway, verifying that she had only paused, not ended the festivities.

She began to relax. She hadn't ruined the evening for anyone.

She had apologized again to Professor Schenk when Jeff went back downstairs. He had placed his hand gently on her shoulder, trying to reassure her, but she felt it was best to just leave. She had gathered her things, and Schenk had walked her to the door, giving her his contact card before she left. He had a flight back to his own university in the morning, but he wanted to keep in touch. He said he'd call her to make sure she was okay in the next couple of days.

So…everone had been very nice about it.

But Jordan's emotional state was like a volcano as soon as she got back in her car. She had closed the driver's side door, stared straight ahead for half a moment, and then lost control, sobbing with her face buried in her steering wheel. The lava flows of shame, embarrassment, and fear rose and fell in her head and gut, all the while her skin held steady in the same hot red flush that had persisted throughout much of the evening, matching the lighting of the basement.

Eventually she pulled herself together enough to drive home. David had texted, asking how the night had gone, but she couldn't bring herself to answer just yet. Dropping her keys and bag on the kitchen table, she drank a whole bottle of gatorade out of the fridge, turned on a warm shower, and took off her clothes.

The delicate snarl of shucked and discarded black lace looked uncanny sitting on top of her business-casual outfit, now in its own pile on the bathroom floor.

She picked up the snarl, recoiling slightly at the slight shock of cold, saturated moisture touching her wrist.

The panties were wet.

She reached between her legs, looking for confirmation and letting out a frustrated sigh as her shoulders drooped.

Still wet. Very wet. Causing some of her pubic hair to bind in little clumps.

Carefully avoiding looking in the mirror, Jordan stepped into the warm shower and washed herself down. She let out another, slightly less forceful wave of embarrassed crying, and then washed her body and hair.

She dried off, facing away from the mirror as she wrapped her towel around her body, gathered her dirty clothes, and retreated to her bedroom. Dropping the clothes in the hamper, she opened the top drawer, pulled out the veiny silicone length of Ricardo, complete with suction cup behind the base, and walked toward the corner of the room where the mirror and the trash can were.

She took a deep breath and looked in the mirror, bracing for the response.

Nothing. Just her own body, wrapped in a towel.

She looked at the prosthetic cock in her right hand, then looked in the mirror again. She tugged on the joining of her towel, letting it fall to the floor.

She thought the girl in the mirror would make an appearance then, but it was just her own naked body. Her nipples had softened in the warm water, and her skin was still shiny and not fully dry. Her hair hung wet down one side of her torso, the bottom of it reaching just about to the bulb of her right breast.

Her eyes looked exhausted. Or–something like exhaustion.

She looked at the prosthetic in her hand again, then down at the trash can.

David was coming home tomorrow night. He had texted. Asking how the night went.

She looked at the prosthetic again, then in the mirror again.

Nothing.

Her eyes dropped, remembering several searing flashes of memory from the evening. Then, kneeling down facing the full-length mirror, she gripped the base of the prosthetic and slammed its suction cup flat against the mirror just below kneeling eye level. The cock now attached and pointing straight at her face.

She sighed deeply, then looked into her own eyes in the mirror, unable to tell if she was looking at the girl in the mirror, or if she had become the girl in the mirror.

At least all those BDSM people…at least they were nice about it, right? Nobody freaked out about it, except her.

Leaning forward, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, feeling the silicone corona grazing her lips, then making contact with the roof of her mouth and sliding back. The bottom of the prosthetic found her tongue at about the same time, and her mouth was quickly filled with the shape, if not quite the warmth and texture of a lover, the tip presently finding resistance in the soft palate near the entrance to her throat. Sensing a proper coupling, her lips settled into a seal around Ricardo some inches from his base and suction cup. The tip of her nose could sense the proximity of the mirror, but didn't touch it.

Breathing in deeply through her nose, Jordan opened her eyes to see herself in the mirror, her eyes inches away from their own reflection as her cheeks collapsed into delicate twin concavities.

Her right hand slid over the top of her thigh, moved toward her abdomen, then cupped backward into the tuft of warm, damp, soft hair.

* * *

David was a wreck. Pacing back and forth in front of a neatly made queen bed in his Johannesburg hotel room, he had set up a hasty workstation on the table with his open laptop and several files of papers stacked and demanding his attention.

But he couldn't focus. He had arrived back from the docks just under an hour ago, and had ordered dinner through room service which had not yet arrived. And Jordan had not texted him back.

He was amazed at how well he had managed to focus at the docks. Knowing that his wife was attending a sex bondage event of some kind. Granted, the attendance was as an observer–part of her assignment to respond to some visiting professor, and she said it would help give her credibility and maybe help her career. She had tried to downplay it as a clinical or academic exercise.

And it probably was.

Still, the thought of his wife surrounded by…

He wasn't even sure. He had spent the last few nights sampling various sources of bondage porn. Some of it was very exciting, some of it horrifying. He wasn't quite sure what she was going to see. But certainly some new things for her. Although, knowing Jordan, she would have her quasi-stern "dissertation face" on throughout the evening, observing and theorizing. An objective posture, as if she were observing the mating habits of an uncontacted tribe of island dwellers in Polynesia somewhere. Sterile. Academic.

Still, the thought of Jordan…in a room where these things were going on.

There was a small possibility that something might pique her interest. A little spark of thought or temptation that might get her engines going.

On the other hand, it might genuinely horrify her. Her overtly tense reaction when they visited the sex toy and adult movie store had clearly exposed her puritanical upbringing. She had seemed more than nervous. Not so much that her sensibilities were offended–more like she had felt threatened as they walked past aisles and aisles of DVDs with lewd covers.

But, despite all that, he also knew that she had gone back and bought a toy for him. She knew that he was turned on by her libido, and she had surprised him by accommodating and buying a toy for herself. A pretty big one, too. He couldn't imagine her doing something like that just for herself.

Even after their short-lived experiment with Mark, or maybe because of their short-lived experiment with Mark, Jordan had seemed more careful to set whatever libertine tendencies arose from her time with Mark back in their proper, subdued place and focus on her exclusive relationship with her husband. Even her little dancing-girl text messages seemed to be tacit admissions that she was recalibrating her sexuality to the innocent repression of her childhood. The texts seemed mainly to humor him. Even if she was masturbating, she seemed mainly to do it because it aroused him.

Although not always. He definitely remembered that she had a stronger than usual reaction to those bondage videos when she was researching for her paper. He remembered waking up to several consecutive dancing girls and flowers, signifying a night of intense arousal.

Maybe seeing the real thing would have a similar effect..?

He stuffed his hand down the front of his pants, squeezing himself. He didn't know what to think, but pinching his penis sent a short but pleasant feeling into his lower abdomen.

He sat down at the laptop again, trying to focus on work. He had to finish his inspection and audit paperwork for the Port of Johannesburg before he got on the plane tomorrow morning. There was so much left to do…

He looked down at his phone, cocking his head uncertainly. No return call, no return texts from Jordan. She might still be there…late into the night.

He shook the thought out of his head, but not before squeezing his penis again. The tip dribbled onto one of his fingers, which he quickly wiped off before returning to work.

He got through the remainder of his data and was ready to draft his report when his cell phone rang. He grabbed it and jerked it up to his ear.

"Hey baby…"

Jordan. She sounded exhausted.

"Hey Jo…good to hear from you. It's so late there, everything okay?"

He heard her take a deep breath and sigh.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Just tired."

"I bet. It's…what…1:30 in the morning there now?"

"Yeah."

"How was the…uh…thing?"

"It was fine. Weird, but fine."

David waited for her to go on, but she didn't seem inclined to.

"Uh…" he struggled to answer, "weird how? You wanna tell me about it?"

"I mean…it was a kind of sex dungeon. It was in this rich guy's basement out in the country, all the lights were red, and people wore leather."

"Is that it?"

"I mean, kinda, yeah. I really just did it to show Schenk I wasn't scared. I took some notes, we talked a little about his theory. It was really pretty dry and academic. I wasn't there for the…festivities…"

She drew out the last word one syllable at a time–fest…iv…i…ties–signaling a kind of uneasy disdain for the whole experience.

David's emotions were strong but mixed. On the one hand, he was disappointed that she didn't enjoy herself. On the other hand, he was viscerally relieved that she didn't enjoy herself. On the third hand, he was devastated that she didn't really, really enjoy herself."

It was a strange cocktail of feelings, and it left him fumbling for words.

"David?"

Jordan seemed concerned.

"Yeah, Jo. I'm here."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine…" David hastened to reassure her. "I'm just…trying to finish up this report before my flight tomorrow. I think if we fix the grid in Lagos, we could see some real improvements. I'm…just distracted."

"Oh, okay." She yawned audibly. "Probably just as well. It's super late here. I think I'm gonna go to bed."

"Oh, I don't mean to hustle you off the phone, baby…" David hastened.

"No, it's okay. I'm sleepy. I'm really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night, though. I'm getting tired of sleeping alone. Need a little dose of David…"

David smiled to himself. "I'm really excited to see you tomorrow night too, Jo. Like…super excited."

"Oooh, I like the sound of that…" Jordan cooed. He heard the rustle and creak of her dropping into bed.

"Okay, well get some sleep, baby. I love you. I'll be home tomorrow night."

"Iloveyoutoo…Fly safe…" she mumbled.

David hung up the phone and returned to his work, consciously blocking out one phrase uttered by his wife on that phone call. A phrase that he knew would derail his whole night's work if he let it into his head.

"I'm getting tired of sleeping alone…"

* * *

Jordan wasn't even out of the parking lot after church when the dashboard display in her new car lit up with a phone call.

The Right, Good, Dignified and most Honorable Reverend James Simms.

She had purposefully entered the overly grandiose name in her phone contacts, continuing a years long running joke that they shared. She would occasionally poke fun at his vocation by adding stylish words to his legitimate prefix of "reverend," and he would add random letters after her name every time she accomplished something.

His contact for her in his phone read: Jordan Stark Simms, B.S, B.A, M.A, Ph.D ABD, PDQ, C.P.

The last two stood for Cutie Patootie, the nickname her paternal grandfather gave to her when she was a little girl. Her dad made sure to put it in the address line of every letter he sent her.

"Hey Dad…"

"Jojo! I'm still in my grand vestments…just managed to clear out the chapel with another bad sermon. Thought I'd call and see how your big week went!"

"Big week?" Jordan sounded perplexed.

"Yeah, your big week. You had the big presentation, I talked to David yesterday morning, he said they had you out to dinner with the other professors, and you were going to network with the big wigs…"

Jordan's heart stopped.

"You talked to David?"

"Yeah, of course. We talk sometimes. When he started the globetrotter job, he called to get my advice. We made a deal–he promised to call me every time he saw a cool animal that he'd never seen before. It's a thing we do. That okay?"

"What else did he tell you?"

Reverend Simms paused.

"I mean, not much, really. Just said you had a busy week, and you were kinda nervous about it. And he said zebras–he saw some in South Africa–zebras have square pupils! Can you believe it?"

A pause.

"Jordan?"

"Jordan, everything okay?"

Jordan waited until her breath stopped shaking.

"Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine, Dad."

"Jojo…"

He was using his serious voice. It was gentle, but stern. A tried and true method of extracting the truth from his children.

"What's going on, honey?"

Jordan wiped the tear from one eye.

She shook her head, her face contorting as she tried to control her tears.

"I just…I had a really bad performance in church today. I was distracted, I missed a cue, and I was off key. It was…I'm just a little shaken up by it, I'm sorry."

"Oh, honey…"

Jordan knew that her father knew she was lying. But he had the decency not to press her.

"Oh, Jojo, it happens to everyone. I bet opera singers do it sometimes. You'll try again next week, you'll nail it. Everyone will forget this week. You'll win 'em over."

Jordan sniffed. "Thanks, dad."

"So…"

"So what?"

"So…"

He used his Donald Duck voice.

Jordan couldn't help but laugh.

"I can't believe that still works on me!" Jordan observed out loud, but mainly to herself.

"It always works. I'm gonna do it on my deathbed, C.P. Just you wait. I'll have you rolling on the floor when I go up to the pearly gates."

"No you won't…"

"Oh, but I will. Watch me, Jojo…" He made the Donald Duck voice again.

"Dad…stop!" Jordan laughed like she was a little girl being tickled.

"There's that laugh…"

When she calmed down, he finally pushed for his answer.

"So…your week was good? Give me the dollar version of the story. I want to know everything."

"Okay, fine. Reverend…"

"Yeah, Reverend, Dad, whatever. C'mon. Tell me."

"Not much to tell, really. We had a visiting scholar, they asked me to do a response to a lecture he gave. It went pretty well."

"What was the lecture on?"

Jordan took a breath. "Paradigms of identity construction in adolescent and young adult females."

"Sounds interesting. What was the scholar's name? I might want to read his book."

"It wasn't that good, really."

"Oh. Well, give me the name anyway, I want to check it out."

Jordan hesitated.

"Richard Baxter. He's from Vanderbilt."

"Richard…Baxter…I'm writing it down. And he does identity theory like you, right?"

"Well, overlapping interests, but he has some different ideas than me. But that's what the whole academic game is all about, right? Different approaches, different views?"

"I wouldn't know, Jojo. Never got that far. I'm not as smart as you."

"Dad…stop!" Jordan giggled again.

"So, you did some socializing afterward? Get any leads on a job after you graduate?"

"Nothing concrete, but some good contacts. I think I made a good impression."

"Of course you did. You're a Simms! We always win the crowd over."

"Yeah…"

"Well, I've gotta run, Jojo. I've got to visit Mrs. Wilcox in the nursing home before dinner, and your mother has been awful punctual lately."

"Yeah, she's a stickler for mealtimes."

"Well, call her and tell her about your big week too sometime. I mean, I'll obviously brag, but she likes to hear from you too."

"I'll call her when I get home."

"Thanks, C.P.

"No problem, Reverend."

"And Jordan…"

"Yeah?"

"I'm proud of you, kiddo…"

* * *

The flight from Johannesburg to Atlanta was brutal. And the connecting flight back home was somehow even worse.

David pulled his glasses off, cleaning them with the hem of his polo shirt as he walked toward the taxi stand. Not wanting to wait for an Uber, he just got in and gave the driver his address, lolling his head back against the seat as he texted Jordan.

D: Just landed. In the taxi, should be home in…less than half an hour.

J: 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

He let his phone drop to the seat beside him.

The taxi hadn't even left the airport terminal before the phone buzzed again.

He picked it up, smiling as he looked at the display.

Then his smile faded.

The display didn't show the call he was expecting–instead of the display showing a picture of Jordan holding a tulip to her nose with a sly smile accompanying the buzzing of the phone, the display just showed a black screen with a contact name.

Richard Stark.

Shit.

"Hey dad."

"Hey, David! It's been a minute."

"What do you want, Dad?"

"Is that anyway to greet your old man?"

"What do you want, Dad?"

"I just wanna talk, son. It's been a while. I just…I just want to catch up."

David rolled his eyes. He was clearly drunk. Drunk enough to forget he'd called tomorrow, but not drunk enough to be an asshole yet. If he could keep the call to ten minutes, it would probably be okay.

"Okay, Dad. How's business?"

"It's, business, you know. Keeping the cars movin, in and out, buyin' and sellin'. How about you? I hear you got a new job?"

"Yeah. A few months now. And a side business."

"No shit? What's the side business?"

"It's in vehicle maintenance. Kind of a contracting company for companies and local government agencies, maintaining cars."

"Oh. Any money in it?"

"Some."

"Well, keep at it. Never know when it'll turn around. Maybe you won't have to work two jobs if it does, eh?"

"I like my new job, actually."

"Yeah? You the boss yet?"

"Not really. More of an auditor."

"Oh, shit. Fuckin' auditors. I got a visit from the tax man comin' up. Fuckin' auditors."

"I'm not that kind of an auditor. More of a consultant, I guess, but in-house."

"Yeah? What's the company?"

"Maersk."

"Never heard of 'em."

"Alright. Well, it's been real, Dad. I gotta hang up soon. I'm heading home from the airport, and I haven't been home in a while."

"Haven't been home? You traveling?"

"Yeah. A few weeks at a time."

"How's Joanna feel about that?"

"Jordan is very supportive. And I get to be home more after my first year."

"That's good, at least. Of course, you gotta keep an eye on her. You know your mom used to fuck around…"

David rubbed his eyes under his glasses in frustration.

"No, Dad, that was you. You're thinking of you. You fucked around. And I trust Jordan."

"Yeah…well at least she isn't that pretty. The pretty ones'll fuck around."

"She's got her own career, and she's busy, and I actually really do trust her. Dad…what do you want? Why did you call?"

"Nothin. I hear you're an accountant now, is all."

"Yeah, I just got CPA licensure last month. Why?"

"Well, I got a visit from the tax man comin' up, and I was thinkin…"

The taxi pulled up to David's apartment as he heard his father fumble for words. He paid and tipped the driver, stumbled out of the cab and stood between Jordan's new Rav-4 and their old Camry, which now sat unused in the extra parking space.

"Yeah, Dad, whatever. Just have Patricia email me the IRS summons and whatever books you have. I'll take a look, but if it looks shady at all, I'm sending it back and you're on your own."

"Don't be like that, David. We're family."

"Jesus Christ, don't remind me."

"Tell Joanna I said hi. And don't tell her I said she wasn't pretty. Women…they get shitty about stuff like that. Hold grudges, you know? It's in their nature…"

"Goodbye, Dad."

David hung up the phone, clenching his teeth.

He slipped his phone in his pocket, standing still next to the Camry, then slammed his fist hard into the trunk in frustration.

He immediately regretted it. Lightning bolts of pain shot up his ulnar nerve, the pinky-palm region of his hand throbbing and trembling.

"Motherfucker…"

He muttered under his breath as he made his way into the apartment building, fishing out his keys as he approached the front door.

* * *

Jordan heard the keys jingling in the doorknob, and she shot out of her chair. Sliding it back under the table, she took a nervous step forward, clasping her hands together in front of her, unsure of how to stand.

The door opened, and David stepped in, obviously frazzled, frustrated, and exhausted. He looked like he was getting ready to throw his bag across the room.

Then he saw her.

A frightened yet hopeful smile was on her face, her hair neatly hanging down. She was barefoot, wearing only black lace lingerie. A see-through bra that cheekily hinted at the shades of her nipples. Arabesques of lace and delicate mesh descended below the bra cups with a skin tight fit that left the midriff bare. Her delicate navel and the surrounding skin invited David to uncover more. All this was attached by thin straps to matching see-through panties that half-revealed a soft, feminine tangle of auburn hair descending in a V to where her legs met.

"Hi baby…welcome home. I made us some brownies…"

David dropped his bag and tumbled forward, throwing his arms around his wife. Her nervous half smile broke into a grin as her husband pawed all over her body, his fingers nudging underneath the lacy fabric, first on her back, then on her front. She kissed him hungrily as he explored her body.

"How was Africa, honey?"

David mumbled an incoherent response, aggressively backing her down the hall to their bedroom.

Jordan giggled as she pranced backward down the hall.

At one point, she broke away and turned around, only to have David pinch her exposed buttock.

She squealed and giggled again, running down the hallway as her husband chased her.

"I…have missed you in this bed, Mister Stark…" Jordan impishly placed her index finger on his lips. He kissed her finger, then leaned in to kiss her once more.

Jordan fumbled with her husband's pants as they twirled around in front of the bed. The gentle throb between her legs rose steadily with a feeling of heat–whether literal or just a sense of excitement, she couldn't tell.

David's slacks fell to his ankles, and she pushed him playfully back on the bed, the inside of his knees still curled around the foot edge of the mattress.

She eagerly kneeled in front of him, fishing his erection out of his boxer shorts. He moaned happily, sitting up as she pinched his small penis, then he reached down to cup her breast as she took him into her mouth.

He was amazed, as he always was, at the powerful feeling of his wife's warmth. Her head bobbed up and down almost imperceptibly, creating friction with the warmth.

Their coupling lasted for several seconds before his hips jerked.

Jordan held still for a moment, then lifted her mouth off of him. He fell back on the mattress, sighing happily.

She stuck a finger in her mouth, recovering the half-teaspoon of his relief out of the curl of her tongue and gathering it onto her fingertip. Holding it in front of her, she caught herself looking over at the full-length mirror.

She saw herself in ¾ position facing mostly away. She was kneeling in her black lingerie, her buttocks and back almost entirely exposed, her breasts elegantly and erotically presented, and her hair hanging stylishly between her shoulder blades, even as she looked over her shoulder at her own reflection.

She could see the torn look of simultaneous accomplishment and frustration in her own eyes.

She wiped the modest dollop of semen on her finger into the fabric of David's sock and rose to bend over the bed and kiss him deeply.

"Welcome home, baby."

[sarawithlove2]

My my this is simply the sexiest story I have read for a long long time. I cannot get enough!

[MustBeDenied2]

Thank you, Crushing!

I almost forgot the story is about Jordan. I could get used to this new pace.

MBD