Chapter 21. Questions and Answers
The next ten days turned out to be a very mixed bag. I was desperately trying to get away to see my slut-princess and her hot-chocolate friend, but I kept getting phone calls from people who were interested in some app development. I mean, customers - who'd have them? (Well, in my case, me, fortunately). So while I had a series of meetings that were looking very promising for my business, sexually, things remained in desert-mode.
Worse still, Stacey announced that they'd finally had an orgy with KOK. I felt almost physically sick.
"There were, like, six of us and eight boys. I got spit-roasted, twice, which was kinda fun but not as good as I thought it would be. I swallowed a lot of cum and my throat was sore. Hannah invited her boyfriend, Martin. I don't think he's, like, a regular member of KOK, but they let him join and he has this, like, super-big cock. He and one of the other boys actually made me come while they were fucking me, which was cool. Actually, Martin's cock felt really good inside me. I think Hannah's in love with him. He's nice, and I think he loves her too. I'm not sure he really wanted to join in our orgy but, like, me and Amy-Beth were going to do it and Hannah's, like, our bestie and he's kinda her boyfriend. And then she kinda got him to fuck us because, like, we're all besties and she wanted us to know what it felt like."
I tried to un-grit my teeth. "So is Martin as good a fuck as me?"
"Mmm, maybe." I felt a lurch in my guts. Then she laughed, "But no, not really. It's nice to feel his big cock inside me, and he can go really deep, which is wild, but it's not like when you fuck me, Uncle Bob. That's on a whole different level. And there's no way I could take Martin's cock up my ass. Fuck, that would really smart!"
I sighed. I had to get those plane tickets as soon as possible. But there seemed to be so much work to do first.
Then, a couple of days later and almost two weeks after my anal adventure with Chelsea, I was sitting in my office, about to call Brad after a successful Zoom call with yet another client, when I heard a sound guaranteed to raise my blood pressure. It was the throaty roar of a Ferrari engine. I looked out and, sure enough, there was my brother's car, pulling up outside my house. He was, of course, gunning the engine to make sure everyone knew he was driving a Ferrari. But the pathetic asshole had bought one in
yellow
, for fuck's sake. If you really must have a quarter-of-a-million-dollar dick extension, then the color should be red. OK, you might get away with black, even that dark green that British racing cars used to use. But yellow? Do me - and Ferrari - a fucking favor!
The doorbell rang. I opened the door, and there was Michael, looking his usual 'smug but pissed' self.
"Michael! What an unpleasant surprise. You're not staying, I hope?"
"We need to talk. Can we go inside?"
"Promise you're not a vampire? I understand they can't come in unless you invite them."
He ignored my comment and pushed past me.
In the kitchen, he stood looking increasingly pissed. I smiled at him, in the hope of making him even more uncomfortable.
"Hey, bro, sit down. Take the weight off your ego."
"Stop being so surly with me or I'll..."
"Or you'll do what? Did you bring a firearm? If you did, you failed to check it at the door. And if you didn't, can I remind you that I'm pretty damn good at martial arts, whereas you're an overweight bag of piss."
He was looking really unhappy now, which is kinda how I wanted him to feel.
"Why do you have to be so rude to me?"
"Oh, I dunno. Maybe it's because you treat everyone you meet like shit. Especially the ones you should love and protect. It could be that I find that kind of behavior repugnant."
"Look, asshole..."
"Pot, kettle..."
"...I don't want you anywhere near my wife, ever again."
"Don't you think she has any say in the matter? Or do you want to keep her tied up? Maybe in the basement? How are you for duct tape these days?"
"What has she told you?"
"Nothing that I didn't already know; that you're a violent asshole who likes to hurt and humiliate people."
"Why you..."
"Careful. If you want to take a swing at me, go ahead, but a few seconds later, you'll find yourself on the floor with a broken nose and me stamping on your nuts. Hey, come to think about it, please
do
take a swing at me!"
"Look. I understand that she came here when we had a - disagreement."
"From what Stacey told me, that 'disagreement' involved you tying her up and beating her with a paddle, despite her begging you to stop. Quite a serious disagreement, if you ask me."
"Don't believe what Stacey tells you. She's a lying little bitch."
"Michael, if you're here in order to get your face punched through the back of your head, I'd be delighted to carry out the process - indeed, I've been waiting years to enjoy the opportunity. Of course, the forensics team may struggle to understand how your face ended up in your asshole. I'd have to explain to them that it's always been that way. If you don't want that, stop insulting your daughter."
"My daughter? Stacey's no fucking daughter of mine!"
"You know, the words 'Complete Asshole' will be inscribed on your tombstone. But maybe not complete - clearly some parts are missing, like any respect or consideration for anyone else. But before I finally break every bone in your entitled little body, will you please tell me why you're here?"
"Because you've been fucking my wife, you asshole!"
"Really? And what makes you say that?" It was of course true, and I was inordinately proud of it, but I wanted Michael to have to spell it out.
"It's fucking obvious. She came to stay here."
