Couples of South Pointe Lake

7. Tibbs Makes an Entrance

Garry didn’t return home until later around noon and was incapacitated for the rest of the afternoon.  Had Steve chosen that afternoon to visit his friend a visit, he would have rung the doorbell and not gotten any response.  His assumption would have been that nobody was home at all.  But Garry was home, as was Ellie.  Neither of them had anything pressing that day.  Garry was a stock-broker.  Often he had to head to the office to do his thing, but most of his work was done from home.  Ellie, besides her yoga work, was a typical housewife.  Garry did his utmost best to pamper and spoil her as much as she desired. 

Ellie was admiring her naked profile in the bedroom mirror.  She ran her hand across her midsection, then caressed her breasts; she pinched and pulled on her n*****s.  Ellie turned away from the mirror and looked toward Garry and laughed as though she had uttered a joke.

“How do I look, darling?” she murmured while still holding out her breasts.  “Don’t I look sexy for you?”

She flung her hands above her head like a ballerina about to perform.  She stood on her toes with one foot balanced against her other knee and pirouetted like a spinning top.  A black man came from behind and caught her in his arms, both of them laughing.  

“You look f*****g sexy for me, babe,” the man said.

“Aww, you like saying the nicest things to me, Tibbs.” 

Ellie kissed him and then looked again at Garry, who sat across the room bound and gagged in a chair.  He was naked with his wrists bound to the chair’s arms and his feet to the chair’s legs.  An additional rope was tied around his torso, further pinning him to the chair, with a thick cloth stuffed in his mouth.  A white square board dangled from his neck with the words: I AM A SISSY-BOI FOR BBC written with a red marker.  Garry’s p***s to keep from nudging against his thigh, dripping pre-c*m.  Ellie had earlier given him a blowjob out of pity before attending to her lover of the day.  Now she preferred him being locked and made to watch her f**k.  She would only grant him leniency to roam about if he was to make a video recording.  But it would come with him wearing his chastity cage to curtail him from giving himself any pleasure.  

Three men had indeed arrived at Garry’s home last night, and though two of them left that morning, one had stuck behind to keep Ellie company.  That one was Tibbs.

Tibbs turned her around, grabbed the back of her head, and stuck his tongue into her mouth.  Ellie locked her arms around his waist while she submitted to his kissing.  Her hands caressed his hard-on that was pressing against her thighs.  Tibbs lowered his head, and Ellie offered him her t**s to suck on while caressing the back of his neck.  At one point, she glanced over at Garry, who hadn’t budged from his position.  His eyes remained focused on Ellie and Tibbs.  Ellie caught what appeared to be agony and lust in his eyes.  He would have loved for her to play with him a little bit, anything to get him off.   

Tibbs turned Ellie around, twisting her arm behind her back, and marched her toward Garry.  He bent her forward toward him and let go of her arm.  Ellie rested her hands on Garry’s shoulders, laughing at his misery.

“Look at you, honey,” she pinched his cheek.  “All tied up like the sissy you are.  You think you’re a man when really you’re not.  You’re not worthy of a man to me at all.”

Garry could only grunt his response as a means of acknowledging her words as true.  Ellie loosened the gag from his mouth; Garry worked his jaw muscles and swallowed the gob of spite accumulating in his mouth cavity.

“Tell me you’re worthless,” she said to him.

“I am worthless, darling.”

“Hold still, b***h,” Tibbs said to her.

He rubbed his prick against her p***y, getting some necessary friction, before sliding it between her labia folds.  Ellie gripped on her husband’s shoulders and breathed into his face.  Her body reeled from the impact of Tibbs’s c**k thrusting inside her cunt.  The shockwaves raced up the back of her spine, sending signals of ecstasy to her brain.  Tibbs grasped her by her hips and gritted his teeth while ramming his way into her.  He admired the bulls-eye tattoo that decorated her backside while giving her the works.  The impact of his girth shook Ellie to her core.  

She leaned over Garry’s shoulder, gasping and panting breathlessly.  Her nails bit into his flesh, but he didn’t appear to mind.  

Tibbs focused his eyes on her ass cheeks, bouncing back at him as he rammed into her over and over.  Harder and harder he went, smacking into her butt, aroused by the shrill gasp that escaped her lips as she rested her face against her husband’s shoulder. 

Ellie went on moaning until Tibbs slowed to a stop to catch his breath.  His c**k fell out of her, and he staggered backward.  Ellie took a moment to breathe before taking his c**k into her mouth.  Tibbs swiped the sweat from his brow and glared at Garry.

“You loving the way I’m f*****g your b***h, right, white boy?”

“Yes, sir,” Garry answered.

“Yeah . . . Bet you loved the way my buddies and I tore her p***y up last night, didn’t ya?”

“I very much did, sir,” Garry replied.

Ellie finished cleaning his c**k, then Tibbs grabbed her arm and flung her onto the bed.  His c**k stayed turgid, drawn to her p***y like a magnet.  Ellie laid face-forward and wanted to turn over, but Tibbs held her down.

“Don’t move a muscle,” he told her.

Ellie reached under her crotch and frantically slapped her p***y as Tibbs positioned himself forward and grunted as he then slid home.  Ellie yelped and simultaneously thrust her butt back at him.  Her hand reached further to squeeze his balls as his girth stretched her cunt.  Tibbs worked his hips and continued shoving his d**k into her harder, grunting with satisfaction.  He rested on top Ellie’s backside, used his legs to prod her to spread hers apart, then continued jerking his pelvic muscles against her buttocks. 

Garry had himself the best view of the room.  He enjoyed the sight of Tibbs’s buttock muscles contract each time he slid into his wife.  Their bodies clashed and bounced on the bed; Tibbs didn’t let off his pace.  Ellie’s gasps and whimpers filled the room, coupled with the groaning bed springs from their combined weight.  Garry kept attempting to see if he could break free from his bonds, at least for the ones pinning his wrists to the chair.  He wanted to masturbate so badly.

Tibbs tensed, and his legs began to jerk tensely as if he was having spasms.  He groaned seconds before blurting that he had climaxed.  Ellie felt him ejaculate inside her.  Tibbs rolled off her, and Garry, from his vantage point, saw evidence of his semen buried inside her cunt.  Tibbs climbed off the bed and came and loosened Garry’s bounds, including the ones around his legs.  Garry took a moment to massage his wrists to get his circulation going before rising from the chair.

“Go do your duty, sissy-boy,” Tibbs retrieved the signboard from around his neck.

Garry thanked him, then rushed to the bed.  He spread his wife’s butt cheeks apart then pressed his nose down into her ass crack.  Ellie hissed aloud as she suddenly came alive.  She rotated her butt up and down and thrust backward, enabling him to stick his tongue where it ought to go.  Garry was in heaven, slurping his way deep into her wet orifice, soaking up her infectious smell, and didn’t want to stop.

Tibbs went into the bathroom to wash himself up.  He needed to be someplace else by now.  Since his buddies left with the truck, his only choice would be to call himself an Uber.

*             *          *

Larry left Steve’s home and returned to his on Frisbee Lane.  He glanced over at Garry’s home as he went past it.  He couldn’t fathom why his mind was all of a sudden preoccupied with his friend’s lifestyle.  He felt as though he was walking blindfolded through a foggy terrain.  He had awoken this morning with neither thought about Garry or what they had witnessed in his phone during the weekend, yet after seeing those two black men, he couldn’t help wanting to learn more of what’s going on behind their door.  If anything but to satisfy his curiosity and f**k what anybody else might think.

Larry was three feet from reaching his driveway when he drew to a stop.  He stood there with his mouth hanging slightly open and his eyes staring ahead but at nothing in particular, completely lost in contemplation.  He looked back the way he had come, wondering if it was too late to head back to Steve’s and tell him to ignore everything he had said.  Or won’t it be better to give him a call and tell him to abort the inquisition?

Come to think of it, had he really talked Steve into questioning Garry?  He remembered the words and argument tumbling out of his mouth, but Larry had felt like a prisoner inside his own body the entire time he talked.  As if he had experienced some out of body situation, or that an alien entity had taken over his motor skills that he couldn’t explain.  

Just then, a police cruiser drew to a stop beside him and the driver honked his horn, which jerked Larry back to his present stage, looking startled and lost.

“Everything okay, Larry?”

He narrowed his eyes as he appraised the cop behind the wheel.  It took seconds for him to recall the officer’s name and that of his partner, who also was looking at him interestingly.

“Oh, hi, Scott.  Yeah, it’s all great and good with me.  I was just wool-gathering there for a minute.”

“No problem.  How’s Blondie doing?  She still making those lovely apple pies from last time?”

“Yeah, she certainly does.  You can check her down at her bakery shop when you can.”

  “I think I’ll do that.  The sun’s gonna be a killer today.  You’d better get under a shade if you don’t wanna go all red.”

Larry laughed at that.  “Sure, I’ll do that.  You take care now. See ya.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

Scott Baskin and his partner, Elroy Jamieson, watched Larry stroll into his compound before continuing onward with their neighborhood patrol.

“You friendly with them?” Elroy asked.

“Yeah.  His name’s Larry Ditko.  He relocated from the West Coast, except he’s a Boston Celtics fan if you can ever believe that—a West Coast guy in love with the Celtics—got himself a pretty wife with big t**s, and she makes the best apple pies you’ve ever tasted.”

“He looks like a surfer type of dude,” Elroy remarked.

Scott made a turn into Canyon Drive and frowned when they came upon a battered-looking truck that drove past them.  Scott and Elroy got a good look at the truck’s driver.  Likewise, the driver observed the cops and held himself from wanting to lean out of his window and spit at their vehicle.  Scott watched the vehicle disappear from view in his side mirror.

“That was Red, right?” asked Elroy.

“Bobby Red himself.  That’s one asshole I’d love to bust anytime.  I’ll bet he knows it, too.”

“I’ve seen him some mornings jogging down to the park.”

“Yeah.  No way he’s out trying to burn any calories.  That fool’s picking up m*******a from that one Cumberland lowlife that looks like a scarecrow.”

“DeGreese?”

“Yeah, him.  I’m waiting for the day when I’m gonna bust them both.  God, that would make my day.”

“That’s something we ought to keep an eye out,” Elroy said.

“You’ve got it, partner.  You’ve got it.”

*          *          *

Larry entered his home, glad to be out of the sun, and stood with his back to the door.  His face was engrossed by the perplexity of what previously drummed in his mind before being interrupted by the cops.  He touched the back of his palm to the side of his neck.  His body felt unusually warm, but he wasn’t coming down with a fever or something.  Or likely it was all in his mind, or perhaps something he ate before leaving the house.  The time was 1:17 p.m.  He had been at Steve’s home for two hours plus.  How Time f*****g flies when you’ve got your friend’s concern on the mind.

“Honey, come in here,” Blondie hollered.

Larry followed the sound of Blondie’s voice up the stairs to their bedroom.  He knocked before entering—even that was something he never thought he would be doing until now.  Blondie had one foot resting on the bed as she pulled her net stockings up her thigh; her skirt was bunched up around her waist.  Larry saw she wasn’t wearing any panties.  Blondie observed him looking but didn’t concern himself with that—he could look, except dare to touch.

“You’re back from Steve’s place?” she put down her foot and rearranged her skirt. 

“Yes, dear,” he answered.

“You told him everything that you saw?”

“I did.”

“And what was his response?”

“He said he would think about it.”

She looked at him.  “Does that mean he will go to find out what’s going on?”

“Yes, dear.  I’m sure he will.”

“That’s good to know.”

Blondie slipped her feet into her shoes and slung her handbag on her shoulder.  

“I might be home a little late today.”  She picked a Crystal Clear bottle of water from where it stood on a table.  “I’ve got some clients coming over who adore my cookies.  I’m going to have to service them much of today.  In the meantime, don’t you go doing stuff you shouldn’t be doing, okay?”

 “Sure, darling.  Whatever you say.”

“Good.”  She gave him the bottle of water.  “Don’t forget to drink as much water as you can, darling.  It’s going to be hot today, and I don’t want you getting dehydrated on me.”