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Simon was at it again tonight. And for the umpteenth time for the past six months now. Echoing in his garage was the ordinary cacophony one could expect to hear from a middle-aged man’s home – shrieking drills, thundering hammers, and the deafening clangs of tools falling to the concrete floor.

At forty-two years old with a mostly-bald head, brown eyes, and an average stature in jeans and a white t-shirt, Simon Wells was an inventor by trade, through and through. Though his line of work could rarely ever be considered profitable, there was nevertheless a sense of pride in it that he could derive from nowhere else, from having invented various new ways of engine production, to new chemicals he would synthesize from simple household items. This time around, he was hard at work at what would be his magnum opus.

Standing at around eight feet tall before him was a rectangularly shaped contraption comprised of glass, steel, copper, wires, and a plethora of other materials with multisyllabic names – a cloning machine he dedicated so much work into to the detriment of his relationship with his wife, Cecilia.

“Coming to bed yet, honey?” she asked one evening five months ago with a hint of hope in her tone so obvious that even a person in one of the most crowded places on Earth could hear. But not Simon, whose eyes peered down at a notebook laid before him on his office desk, with numerous scribbles of math equations scattered about.

A disappointed sigh escaped Cecilia’s lips while she waited for a response from her husband; as the pause took its long, torturous toll on her, she took in the sight of the office – like the garage, it looked more like a workshop rather than its intended purpose as an office; attached to the wall adjacent to her was a flatscreen TV, and beneath that was a dresser mostly filled with clothes, in addition to more hardware tools and such. And sitting in front of her was Simon, still scribbling away on his notebook. The desk, meanwhile, was scattered with even more hardware tools, along with the usual pens, pencils, and blank sheets of paper. The only other piece furnishing indicating that the room was, indeed, an office, was the collection of framed newspaper clippings of her husband’s achievements, along with numerous degrees and certificates on his academic and professional accomplishments, as well as photographs of himself posed with his inventions.

“Honey, are you coming to bed yet?” Cecilia repeated, more loudly this time. Curvaceous and two years older than Simon, she had dark skin glistening with a fresh, light layer of moisturizer, and she was clad in purple lingerie and a black bathrobe that was untied around her waist; in addition to this was her bob-cut black hair and warm, amber eyes outlined with makeup that remained fixated on her husband with an air of impatience that gradually rose.

“Uh, not right now, dear,” Simon finally replied, albeit with an offhandedness that only served to further fuel her growing impatience.

“Fine,” she snapped before heading off to sleep.

The couple’s bedroom had walls painted in a shade of tannish white and a light-colored wooden floor. Positioned in the center of the bedroom was, of course, the bed, with white and purple sheets, blankets and pillows; to the right of the bed was another dresser filled with more of Simon’s clothes and with a few pictures of him and his wife together on their wedding day and numerous other occasions on top. To the left was the white table where Cecilia applied her makeup and stylized her hair. And in front of the bed was the door to the ensuite bathroom, its walls of the same tannish white color, a toilet with a shag covering of the same color of purple as the bed, and a walk-in shower.

Once in bed, she brought out a pink vibrator from under the mattress and eyed it with that same disappointment written all over her face.

“Doesn’t my husband even know I exist anymore,” she said, dejected, before moving apart her thong and placing the vibrator on her labia and turning it on. As it vibrated and sent waves of pleasure that she could just barely perceive, she closed her eyes and snaked her other hand to her breasts to massage them, though this, too, did little (if at all) to help.

“I need a man,” she moaned. “I need a man.”

Similarly, as Simon scribbled away on his notebook, his phone (for lack of better words) vibrated in his pocket. Upon retrieving it, he saw a text from a phone number unlisted on his contacts list.

**202-555-0173:** Giving off that dilf energy, are you?

“What the…?” he mumbled, mildly unsettled. And when there was even a subtle tap on his office window, he jumped in his seat and rose from it to discover his neighbor, Kelly Maxwell, smugly gazing at him with her exuberant green eyes.

At twenty-two years old, the freckle-faced school girl had a small grey backpack slung over her shoulders; atop her head was dirty-blonde hair tied into a ponytail, and she was seductively dressed in a loose-fitting, light-blue cropped tank top that only just barely covered her cleavage but accentuated her sun-kissed complexion and thin body, and tight denim shorts with Converse shoes and no socks.

Phone still in hand another pebble in her other, she sent Simon another text.

**202-555-0173:** Enjoying the view daddy?

The inventor’s heart beat faster than ever before, both at how attractive she was (loathe as he was to admit), and her youthfulness and spontaneity. Not to mention, at his underlying fear of the repercussions of having such an affair as one with someone as young as her.

On pure instinct, he sent his own response.

**Simon:** Who are you?

**Simon:** How’d you get this number? And why are you messaging me?

Sweat beaded on his head as his heart continued beating rapidly. And during this whole ordeal with the young temptress, he hardly breathed at all, the oxygen in the air seemingly nonexistent.

**202-555-0173:** Now your really giving off that big daddy energy.

**202-555-0173:** I’m Kelly. Hello neighbor!

**Simon:** We need to talk. Now!

Simon slammed his phone down on his desk and rushed out the door to speak to this strange girl. Once outside after making sure that the door and curtains were closed behind him, he spoke.

“I’m gonna ask again – why are you messaging me?”

“Hey, take a chill pill there,” she said, smirking, her voice adorably high-pitched and with a slight southern drawl. “Like I said, I’m Kelly, Brian Maxwell’s daughter. I moved here from Texas two years ago to attend Portland State. You’ve met Brian before, right?”

“Yeah. I did,” Simon said tersely. “Brian Maxwell. We met at a Fourth of July barbeque last year, and that was that. But I’ve never seen you before.”

“But I’ve seen you before,” Kelly countered. “Are you always wearing that same outfit? White shirt and jeans?”

“Well, when you have so many good ideas, clothing choice is the last thing on your mind,” Simon explained with a feigned hint of modesty in his tone, almost bragging.

An awkward pause between the two of them ensued; for Simon, it may as well have lasted a week, his heart still rapidly beating as he awkwardly stood outside his house with nothing more to say. Kelly, meanwhile, stared deeply into the middle-aged man’s eyes, her teeth visibly sinking into her bottom lip, causing an involuntary (albeit somewhat pleasurable) twitch in his cock.

“I know how you’re really feeling right now,” she said slowly, finally breaking the silence. “I know how *hard*-working you are. Your wife obviously isn’t appreciating that.”

“That’s none of your business,” he snapped. “And how would you know anyway?”

“I have my ways.” Kelly’s tempting smile grew with each second. And then, without so much as even a subtle warning, she stepped forward until her face was just inches away from Simon’s and placed her soft hand on his crotch.

“W-What…are you doing?” he croaked out.

“What are *you* doing?” said Kelly, smirking. “Why haven’t you stepped back yet?” At first, she moved gently up and down on his crotch, her fingers sliding over his cockhead and reaching down to his balls through his pants, while her other hand snaked down to his thighs.

“I know what you want, mister,” she whispered, her warm breath kissing his nose and lips. “I know what you want. What you need. Let me take care of you.”

Her hand picked up the pace, the pressure from her palm applied more strongly now as she wrapped as much of it as she could all around the older man’s sensitive bits.

“I-I’m busy with something right now,” Simon grunted back, barely able to speak fluidly anymore. “A-And you’re too young.”

“I’m *twenty-two*!” Kelly exclaimed in amusement. “I’m on a gap semester right now. I’m bored. I live *all alone* away from home. Maybe you can be my *dad*dy.”

“Holy sh*it*,” Simon groaned. “Fuck!” Slowly, a familiar pressure started building within his crotch, and his cock continued twitching in glee at Kelly’s soft, skillful handiwork.

“I can take care of you, *dad*dy,” she continued. “I know what guys like you need.”

“I’m guessing you must be a favorite of your professors’.”

“For *entirely* different reasons.” Kelly laughed, her hot, arousing breath continuing its assault on Simon’s face and bringing him closer and closer to climax as her hand massaged his cock and balls.

“I’m an *A* student,” she continued. “I’ve just watched enough porn by now to know what a man wants.”

“Oh, so you’re actually a virgin?” Simon scoffed, trying his best to keep up his demeanor as a more responsible adult, but to no avail with the pressure in him becoming stronger and stronger.

“Oh, I’m not a *vir*gin,” Kelly whispered. “I’ve had sex before, but only twice. That second time, I realized…” she then moved her lips to Simon’s ear, planting soft kisses along the way to sweeten the deal.

“I need an older man,” she whispered.

Unable to contain himself any longer, the inventor came. And a visible wet spot on his jeans started to appear, which he then tried his best to conceal with his shirt.

Promptly, Kelly’s hand came to a stop; eagerly, she pulled it back and gave it a sniff.

“Smell’s good,” she said. “If you wanna meet up sometime today, head over to my home. It’s just across the street from yours. I’m alone all day and I’ve got nothing else going on.” And with that, Kelly returned home, taking care to walk in a certain fashion such that her hips hypnotically swayed left and right, causing Simon’s mouth to hang open in amazement before he quickly closed it shut.

“I need to get back to work.”

“By the way…” Kelly momentarily stopped in her tracks and turned around to face Simon one last time for the day. “You never told me your name.”

“I assumed you already knew,” Simon explained, his wit slowly returning. “Especially considering that you know about my turbulent marriage already. Why bother?”

The devilish, dirty-blonde kept her gaze on him, her expression expectant and demanding in a way that made him shiver at his knees.

“It’s Simon,” he said finally. “Nice meeting you, Kelly.” Pleased with herself, she entered back inside her home, her tight, hypnotic ass disappearing once she shut the door.

With all the stress completely wiped from Simon’s mind by his adept neighbor who was now eagerly awaiting his visit, he was back at his desk finishing up the final design plans of his cloning machine. Just when he was about to write the last number necessary for the calculations and such, Cecilia stood behind him once more, this time with a stern look on her face.

“I heard you walk outside for a moment,” she said. “What was that about?”

“Nothing, dear,” Simon replied quickly. “I just needed to get some air, is all.”

“Okay,” his wife said, audibly skeptical, but deciding not to ask any further before returning to bed.

Later that night on that same day, whilst the struggling couple laid in bed in complete silence, Cecilia slid next to him and wrapped her arm around his waist while her other hand snaked over to his crotch to fish his cock out of his boxers.

“W-What are you doing?” Simon drowsily mumbled.

“Aren’t you gonna be a good husband and take care of me?” she begged, continuing her advances. “I miss those times when we’d make love, and I want us to go back to that.”

As she said all this, images of his earlier tryst with Kelly flashed through his mind – the loose-fitting tank top, her hot breath on his face, her soft hand deftly massaging his crotch and bringing him to cum. With his eyelids ajar, he rose from bed and pinned his wife to the mattress, his face hovering over hers.

“You want me to take care of you, huh?” he whispered, imagining his wife as Kelly instead. “I’ll do it. I’ll take good care of you.”

“Oh! Yes, honey!” she said gleefully. “Take me.”

Simon started off by sliding the purple bra down his wife’s shoulders, exposing her supple breasts and nipples that were erect with delight. He then lowered his lips down to them, only to be stopped by his wife’s palm.

“I don’t want you to do that,” she complained. “I want you to just take me.” With her free hand, she gestured for Simon to simply take the plunge into her and plow her, though he had something else in mind. Disappointed and at conflicting interests with his wife, however, he then climbed off of her and laid back in bed.

“Wait, what?” she said. “Did I do something wrong or –”

“I don’t think I’m too interested tonight,” Simon blurted out. “I just…I wanted to take the time to admire your body first, and –”

“So, you don’t really feel like fucking me?” Cecilia snapped. “Is that it? Is this your way of keeping me –”

“That’s not what I said!” Simon countered. “I said ‘*first*’. I wanted to take the time to admire your body *first*.”

“Well, I’m not really interested in oral, *Simon*,” she said, this time using her husband’s name to damaging effect as he perceptively jumped in bed. “I always have to instruct you on what to do, even though we’ve been married for the past *four years* already! And you always seem to do it with the expectation that I’ll reciprocate.”

“I-I’m sorry. I never meant to…and sometimes…I forget,” he stammered, completely taken aback.

“And not to mention, it’s always *me* who has to be the one to initiate,” Cecilia continued. “I wanted a *man*, Simon. And I ended up marrying a geek.” Disgusted at her husband and herself, she grumbled and turned her back on him.

“Let’s just go to sleep. I don’t think I want to talk to you for a while.”

Simon resigned himself to Cecilia’s words and closed his eyes. As best as he tried to fall asleep, the stinging sensation of the silent night and his wife’s tirade remained.

The next morning, at around six o’clock, he quietly rose from bed and retrieved a pair of jeans from one of the drawers in the dresser. Upon slipping out of his pajama pants and into the jeans, he took one last glance at his wife.

“I tried my best, honey,” he whispered while she remained fast asleep. And with that, he headed out the door and walked over to the house across the street, where Kelly lived.

Just after Simon left home, Cecilia awoke, her suspicions about her husband stronger than ever.

*“I tried my best, honey,” he whispered while she remained fast asleep.*

“That…*ass*hole,” she hissed, her arms punching down on her pillows.

Returning to Simon and his own soon-to-begin extramarital affair after knocking on the door, almost immediately, Kelly appeared, dressed in a simple white t-shirt (no bra) and grey sweatpants, with her dirty-blonde hair bedraggled, and her eyes just barely opened from having just woken up, but nevertheless remaining youthful and alluring, like a new rollercoaster Simon was about to take a ride on.

“So, you invited me over yesterday,” he mumbled awkwardly.

“Yes,” said Kelly slowly. “You want to come in?”

Not saying anything more, Simon entered her home and stood firmly next to one of the living room’s couches while she shut the door.

“You want a drink?” she asked after closing it.

Once again on pure impulse, he pinned the young, Texan temptress to the wall and crashed his lips against hers.

“Holy fuck!” she said breathily between kisses. All the while, the most that the middle-aged inventor could muster were simple, feral growls that served to further turn on Kelly. He then slithered his tongue into her mouth and met hers, resulting in a heated duel that ended in his victory as he claimed his prize with both his mouth and body.

“Yeah, that’s right, *dad*dy,” she continued. “Savor your prize.”

He then slid his mouth down her neck and planted more kisses, his hands also exploring the rest of her body and lifting her t-shirt, exposing her small, firm breasts.

“You like ‘em?” she asked.

Still not saying anything, his lips then moved down to her nipples, which he eagerly and desperately suckled and lightly bit.

“Fuck! That feels good,” she moaned, her own hands moving to the back of Simon’s neck to keep his mouth where she wanted it.

“My wife…never lets me do this,” he finally managed to say. “I like…showing a pretty girl how much I admire them.”

“Well, I’d be happy to be your pillow princess for the day,” she remarked.

Happily, Simon then flicked his tongue against Kelly’s left nipple while he gently pinched her other with his thumb and forefinger.

“Thank you, princess,” he said gratefully; meanwhile, he then snaked his other hand into Kelly’s sweatpants and down to her own sensitive parts, taking in every inch of her body with his touch. Once his hand was at its destination, he grinded his palm against her labia through her panties.

“Wet already?” he asked as smugly as she was just yesterday.

“Older guys are hot as fuck,” said Kelly, her breathing harsher now against Simon’s neck, a sensation which he gratefully welcomed back. Wanting to continue and enhance it, he picked up the pace of his hand grinding against Kelly’s warm, wet womanhood, his thumb occasionally flicking against her clitoris.

“My turn now, naughty girl,” he said while he kept his mouth occupied with her nipple. All these sensations happening at once drove Kelly to the edge of climax.

“I’m gonna cum so much,” she said. “I’m gonna…”

Emboldened, Simon then got down on his knees and pulled her sweatpants and panties down, fully exposing her vagina, now soaked in its arousal; tingles crawled up her spine when he pouted his lips and lightly blew air on its surface.

“Oh, God! Argh!” Before she knew it, his mouth was all over her pussy, his tongue lapping away her sweet, slightly salty juices, and occasionally flicking at her clitoris.

“Fuck! You’re so good at that!” she moaned.

“Mm-hm,” he hummed in agreement, his vibrating lips bringing even more tingles up her spine and getting her closer and closer to an intense climax. “My wife…never lets me do this.”

Not wanting to cum just yet, she then pushed Simon to the opposite wall with a forcefulness that sent a tsunami wave of shock and fear washing over him.

“Oh shit!” he exclaimed. “Listen, I’m *really* sorry. It’s just I –”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Kelly assured, an amused, genuine smile on her face that brought him a warmth he hadn’t felt in years and greatly missed.

“It’s just…I wanna take care of you too.” She then took hold of Simon’s wrist and directed him to take a seat in one of the living room couches. Once he took his seat, she got down on her knees.

“Here, let me return the favor by sucking your cock,” she said.

As she went to work on Simon’s pants, he took a long gaze at the living room and its furnishings – it was white, with a dark-wood floor and a flatscreen TV in front of him. Between him and the TV was a glass-topped coffee table with numerous books stocked inside, and cheap, black-leather couches.

Once his pants were at his ankles, she fished his cock out through his boxers, allowing it to stick out through the slot in them.

“Holy shit!” she gasped. “I mean, I know most older guys are pretty big, but I always thought that it was all just bullshit in porn.”

“My wife always thought…ah, fuck!” Before Simon could explain any further, Kelly immediately kissed and lightly suckled his cockhead, moaning in approval of its taste.

“Your wife is definitely missing out,” she said between kisses.

“Definitely,” Simon agreed. “But wait, your dad could be here at any moment, and –”

“My dad might’ve bought the place for me, but I still own it,” Kelly countered. “You’re a guest at my home. Let me show you a little southern hospitality.”

Deciding to give it her all, Kelly took Simon into her mouth again, this time, going deeper and deeper until she was halfway. The wet tightness of her throat, paired with her tongue slathering the underside of his manhood, quickly drove him to the edge of climaxing once more.

“F-Fuck, baby!” he grunted. Meanwhile, the talented Texan bobbed her head at a steady, rhythmic pace, spit crawling from her protruding tongue and down his thighs and balls.

“Hrgh!” she gagged whilst sloppily and expertly slurping the whole length of his cock.

Just before Kelly could finish her breathtaking performance, there was a knock at her door. Immediately, she pulled her mouth off of Simon.

“Damnit!” she cursed whilst wiping her mouth with her shirt. “I gotta get the door. You stay here.”

Simon nodded in agreement and returned his cock to his boxers and pulled his pants back on.

“Hey, dad!” Kelly said in the background to the person outside the door. “Surprised to see you here…no, not at all. Come in!”

She moved herself and the door apart, and promptly, a man entered; he was around the same age as Simon, with neatly combed brown hair, glasses, an averagely thin create clothed in a navy-blue suit and a red tie, and dark-brown leather shoes.

“Simon!” he said, as though meeting a friend he hadn’t seen in years in the same southern drawl as his daughter. “Good to see you again. How are ya?”

“Doing…doing good, Mr. Maxwell,” said Simon, his nervousness fortunately falling on deaf ears.

“Simon, I thought we agreed that you would just call me Brian.” Brian laughed, his perfect white teeth showing.

“Right. Brian,” said Simon. “I’m doing good, Brian. I’ve just been so busy.”

“That, you have, my friend,” said Brian, his laughter finally dissipating, but his smile remaining. “The cloning machine, right?”

“Right. The cloning machine,” said Simon, immediately tense with suspicion instead of nervousness. “How do you know about that?”

“You told me. Remember?” Brian laughed again, those same straight white teeth showing. “Back at the Fourth of July party. You said you should be done in a year at most. Is it almost finished?”

“Yes. Almost,” said Simon, this time tersely.

“That’s wonderful, buddy. I’ve already told my company about it.”

“Your company?”

There was a mild annoyance that started to tinge Brian’s voice, as best as he tried at covering it up with laughter. Nevertheless, he continued with,

“We talked for hours about this last year, Simon. I work for Black Lightning, a defense contractor. I told my employers last week, and they said they’re interested. That’s why I’m here, plus some other business.”

Simon gritted his teeth in anger as a certain warmth washed over him. And all the while, he clenched his down on the couch’s armrest, giving it his all not to punch the businessman and father of the school girl who blew him only a few minutes ago.

Finally, he settled with, “I’m…*glad* you told them, Brian. I can assure you that I’m almost finished. Speaking of which…” he then rose from the couch and offered his hand to Brian.

“I should really get back to work on finishing the thing. It was nice meeting you though.”

“One more thing, Simon,” said Brian. “I must ask – what were you doing *here* anyway?”

“Simon was just helping me with some math homework,” Kelly chimed in to Simon’s rescue. “I figured that since he’s an inventor, he’d be pretty good at math. And I was right.”

“And right you were,” said Brian, patting his daughter on the back. He then turned his gaze to Simon.

“I’m telling you, buddy, this girl’s a real smarty. She *knows* how to use her resources and suck up that knowledge.”

A smirk escaped Simon, which he quickly disguised as a cough before replying with, “I’m…happy to hear that. And I’m sure she’s got a bright future ahead of her.”

“Well, I look forward to seeing the finished prototype,” said Brian, changing the subject before shaking Simon’s hand. “It was great seeing you, buddy.”

Whilst Simon made his way out of Kelly’s house in renewed spirits despite the interruption, Cecilia peered through the living room window back inside his own home, her jaw visibly tensed up and her eyes squinting down at him in disgust.

“That…fucking sicko.”

Now returning to the present, Simon continued work on his cloning machine, sweat beading on his head while a sense of fear and excitement panged him to no end.

*“It’s been four months already, buddy. How the hell aren’t you finished yet?”*

*“I just need one more month, Brian. That’s it.”*

In the midst of his work, his phone vibrated in his pocket, causing a startled jump in him.

“*Another* text?” he mumbled. Upon retrieving his phone from his pocket, he noticed (much to both his relief and mild annoyance) another text from Kelly.

**Kelly:** Home alone tonight, daddy.

**Kelly:** Plz cum over, daddy.

**Kelly:** :,(

“This girl again?” Simon sighed in frustration, his libido comparably lower than hers at the moment. With a rushed tapping of his fingers across the screen, he typed his response.

**Simon:** Can’t tonight, baby. Daddy’s hard at work.

**Kelly:** But not hard for me?? Your good girl NEEDS you.

**Kelly:** Plz!

“Ah, fuck it!” Simon whispered under his breath. He snuck back into the house and into the bathroom before hastily slamming the door behind him and locking it. He undid his pants and pulled out his cock – girthy, uncut, and at least nine inches long. He quickly took a picture with his phone and applied a caption.

**Simon:** Here’s a little appetizer for you, babe. For now.

**Simon:** >:-)

Suddenly, and in a moment of complete tomfoolery, he sent the pic and caption to Cecilia instead.

“FUCK ME!” he boomed. Not even a moment later, Cecilia’s response appeared.

**Cecilia:** What the fuck?!

Simon quickly dialed up his wife.

“Honey,” he said. “I’m sorry, but that was a complete accident. I didn’t mean –”

“What the fuck is *that* supposed to mean?!” she screeched over the phone. “What? You’ve been *fucking* someone else?”

“N-No, not at all,” Simon stammered. “I…” His voice trailed off as he slowly found himself thinking of his invention. *Fuck, I hope this works*, he wondered.

“It wasn’t me,” he declared. “One of my clones did it. For the past month I’ve spent testing my cloning machine, I’ve been having…problems with them.”

“Yeah, right,” Cecilia scoffed before promptly hanging up.

Simon washed his hands and returned to the garage to finish his cloning machine. After about ten more minutes of tinkering, it was finally complete.

“Well. Here goes nothing.” Simon tapped a button on the side of the steel, box-shaped contraption and promptly, it ran a red laser over him to scan his appearance; about ten seconds later or so, there was something of a rumble. And then out of a metal door on the other side of the contraption came The Clone. Most surprisingly, it came out not just appearing identical to Simon, but also dressed in the same exact attire he wore – jeans and a white t-shirt.

“Err…hello?” said The Clone, surprisingly identical to him even in voice.

“Oh, thank God!” Simon whispered under his breath in relief. “Okay,” he continued to The Clone. “Brass tacks – I need you to take responsibility for a dick pic I took on accident.”

“What –”

Before The Clone could finish its sentence, Simon called out to his wife.

“Honey!”

“WHAT?!” Cecilia boomed. Upon entering the garage, she stood with folded arms and glared at Simon and The Clone, her nostrils flaring.

Cecilia tonight – ironically enough – had on a light-blue bathrobe, a pink t-shirt, and white pajama pants, and all the while she was visibly angry at her husband. Under ordinary circumstances, Simon would be smirking, but with his marriage at stake, desperation was the only emotion he felt.

“It was *my clone*. You see?” Simon continued. Furtively and hastily, he additionally made the effort to force his phone into The Clone’s hands for good measure. “It’s not *my* dick pic you saw; it was *his*.”

“That’s total bullshit!” Cecilia snapped. “I’ve been watching you all these months – always going to what’s-her-name’s house.”

“Honey, I haven’t,” Simon denied, begging by this point. “Like I said earlier, it’s my cloning machine. Test after test, they –”

“They *what*, Simon?!” Cecilia was red in the face by this point, and out for blood as far as Simon could tell, but he stood his ground nevertheless, confident in his alibi.

He took a deep breath to compose himself, inhaling from his nose and exhaling from his mouth, his heartrate coming to a subtle slow.

“The clones always come out…horny,” he conceded, not at all honest about it, of course. “That pic I sent you a moment ago, the caption…those visits…none of that was me.”

Cecilia stood for another moment in complete silence, her expression hard and still glaring.

“Show me,” she said tersely.

*Fuck!* Simon wondered, his anxious gaze moving toward The Clone. *This guy clearly doesn’t even know what’s happening. How the hell am I going to make this work?*

Meanwhile, just outside the garage and peering into the window at the trio was Kelly, dressed skimpily in just a cropped white t-shirt, sandals, and that same pair of daisy duke denim shorts that hugged and outlined her tight, round ass.

“He…doesn’t want me anymore?” she mumbled, confused. Her eyes then landed on The Clone, and her expression changed from confusion to outright fascination.

“Wait…he actually…did it?”

Back inside the garage, there was still a palpable tension in the air, so strong that Simon could have sworn that he could even hear his own heartbeat. Cecilia then continued on, this time with more authority.

“You heard what I said, *honey*. Show me.”

“Cecilia, dear –”

“We haven’t had sex in *months*. You’ll *both* need to fuck me.” Cecilia then turned to The Clone as well, her heartrate racing with sexual need and coldly pure, vengeful rage.

“What?” asked The Clone, completely clueless about everything happening before him.

“You both need to fuck me,” Cecilia repeated. “That way I can tell which one of you is actually my husband, and which one of you is the pervy asshole. Now, you guys can choose to fuck me at the same time, or you can take turns. Your call.”

“T-This is ridiculous,” Simon spluttered out. “Firstly – and I say this again – I’m *not* cheating on you. And that pic was from The Clone, sent to you as part of some sick prank in his head.”

“I’ve no idea what’s happening here, guys,” said The Clone, his words falling on deaf ears from the failing couple.

“So, what? You have a problem with fucking me, Simon?” she asked. “Or is the problem that not all your clones are actually horny by default?”

“I have a problem with *you* fucking The Clone,” Simon parried. “You might as well say you wanna cheat on me with my own invention.”

“Your *invention’s* invention,” Cecilia retorted back. “Get your head out of your ass for once. Unless you wanna just come out with it already and tell the truth that you have been cheating on me.”

“I’ll get my head out of my ass when you kiss it!” Simon cursed, even kicking a nearby wrench in frustration. Angrily, he started undoing his pants.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.” He then threw his pants and shoes to one corner of the garage and started stroking his cock; as he did this, images of his trysts with Kelly for the last several months flashed through his mind – her lips wrapped around the head of his dick, her small, perky, lightly freckled tits, her thin, highly flexible frame, her vibrant green eyes and her adorably high-pitched voice with its subtle southern drawl.

“’the fuck’s the holdup, honey?” Cecilia spat out as she untied her bathrobe and threw it to another corner of the garage before pulling down her pajama pants, along with her panties.

“Nothing, dear,” said Simon, finding himself dragged back to reality, in his current predicament. *Damn, I wish Kelly was here right now*, he wondered wistfully.

Cecilia bent over the dryer and spat on her hand for lubrication before rubbing her entrance.

“I’ve waited *too* long for this,” she remarked.

Without any further hesitation, Simon took the plunge; slowly, he buried his cock into his wife’s vagina before thrusting in and out at a steady pace.

“Ooh. Fuck!” Cecilia gasped. “Yeah, it’s definitely been *way* too long.”

Meanwhile, Kelly continued watching her neighbors through the window, her breath becoming heavier by the second as she watched Simon gently pound his wife.

“Oh, God,” she moaned. She then moved one hand to her breasts and her other to her womanhood, which was now lightly moistened by the arousing affair happening before her. Not thinking for even a second, she began to massage the both of them, losing herself in masturbation.

Simon proceeded to pick up the pace on his wife, grunting as he tried his hardest to fuck her with as much vigor as he could muster, despite his wife being comparably less tight and satisfying than Kelly.

“Oh, if only you’d been this rough sooner,” she moaned. “If only you’d spent more time on fucking me rather than on all that stupid tinkering you do.”

Releasing a portion of the mixture of his anger and lust, Simon rose his hand to his wife’s ass.

SLAP!

“Argh! Honey!” she cried aloud. “You slapped me?”

Simon slapped her ass again.

SLAP!

“If you’re gonna act like such a slut tonight, dear, I might as well treat you like one,” he spat. Purring with delight, Cecilia played along while The Clone stood still, watching in utter confusion.

“Um…” he chimed in. “May I…what are my orders here?”

“Your orders are to wait,” Cecilia grunted. “Now wait.” Cecilia then grasped the dryer with a tighter grip.

“Ungh! God!” she grunted, feeling hungrier and more feral by the second. “Oh, why couldn’t you have been this…animalistic sooner?”

“I…was busy,” Simon explained between thrusts.

“Busy fucking the college girl across the street instead of me,” Cecilia spat. Incensed beyond belief, Simon raised his hand.

SLAP!

“ARGH! FUCK!” Suddenly, Cecilia’s ass-cheeks blushed; the intensity of the slap drove her even closer to climax.

“How many damn times do I need to tell you?” Simon screamed. “I’m not cheating!” Whilst still fucking her, he then put her down on the garage floor on her hands and knees, and turned his gaze from his wife’s ass to The Clone, still standing before him in complete confusion.

“You – shut my wife up,” he ordered.

“What do you –”

“With your ass, idiot!”

The Clone continued standing in confusion, this time in a state of complete silence.

“Ugh! Make *her* lick and kiss your ass,” Simon explained, his annoyance driving him to pound his wife even faster and more roughly.

The Clone obeyed and proceeded to pull down its pants, exposing its bare, pale, mildly hairy ass to Cecilia and completely blocking her view of everything else. Not hesitating any further, it then pushed itself directly into Cecilia’s face, making her lick and kiss its ass, exactly as Simon instructed.

“Fuck yeah, honey,” said Simon triumphantly. “Now, you can literally *kiss* my ass. Eat it.”

“Your…clone’s…ass,” Cecilia corrected, despite being completely muffled by The Clone.

The Clone meanwhile, found the sensation of having its ass eaten out surprisingly enjoyable; Cecilia’s tongue swirled around and made light prods against The Clone’s anus, moistening and loosening it with each passing second.

“Ohh,” The Clone moaned. “That…feels pleasant.”

“Fucking…perv,” Cecilia cursed between licks and kisses of its mildly hairy and salty asshole.

Kelly, meanwhile, was in complete ecstasy at the whole affair happening before her. Her hands then moved faster in massaging her breasts and vagina, her breath hastening to the point where the garage window she peered into fogged up.

“Y-Yes! Keep going, daddy,” she moaned to herself.

For a brief second when The Clone pulled away from Cecilia’s face for a break from her mouth, she gazed at the window and noticed the spot of fog rhythmically expanding and contracting from Kelly’s utterly horny breathing.

*That pervy bitch*, Cecilia wondered. Her mind immediately returned to the task at hand when The Clone pushed its ass against Cecilia’s face once more.

“Ugh! Fuck!” Simon grunted. “You’re gonna make me cum so hard.”

“My ass is that nice, huh, honey?” Cecilia responded smugly.

“No, *mine*,” Simon remarked. “I never knew it’d be so fucking hot watching you eat my ass. Fuck!”

Cecilia, meanwhile, as loathe as she was to admit, was feeling utterly blissful from the rough, rhythmic pounding of Simon’s thighs against her own ass whilst his cock filled her sopping cunt.

*T-This is what I missed, honey*, she wondered to herself while moaning aloud in approval nevertheless. *You, taking me however you want without all the foreplay.*

After about several more thrusts in and out of his wife, Simon made a final balls-deep plunge and climaxed, unleashing rope after rope of his cum to the point of overflowing before pulling out and collapsing onto a nearby laundry hamper for a seat.

“Son of a bitch, that was intense,” he gasped.

Cecilia was completely spent by this point despite not even having reached her own climax yet. And she continued to be on all fours while her mouth was still completely occupied by The Clone’s ass. Knowing that there was only one way to end this, she pushed The Clone’s ass away for a moment to speak.

“*You*,” she said to it. “Bring your cock to my mouth and fuck it.”

“I’m not sure I –”

“Just cram your penis into the woman’s mouth,” Simon snapped.

The Clone then turned around and stuffed its cock straight into Cecilia’s mouth. Losing all sense of control, it proceeded to practically jackhammer her throat, spit flying all over the place before soaking the garage floor in even more fluids. The sensation of Cecilia’s tight, wet throat, soft lips, and slithery tongue sliding all along the length of its shaft was indescribable for The Clone; incomparable to the earlier sensation of having its ass eaten out.

With newfound energy at the sight of it all, Simon proceeded to stroke himself.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he said through gritted teeth.

*Great! Either my husband’s been a cuck all along or he’s just that arrogant*, Cecilia acidly wondered.

Sensing this, Simon called her out.

“Hey, FYI – I’m not a cuck.”

“I…never said…you were,” Cecilia snapped back through a mouthful of cock.

Cecilia’s response fell on deaf ears when Simon continued with, “It’s just that I now realize that this cloning machine finally allows me to watch myself in third person.”

Nothing more was exchanged by that point, after several more moments, both The Clone and Cecilia found themselves reaching their respective climaxes. Still not feeling completely satisfied just yet, Cecilia snaked her hand to her labia and massaged it, prodding it with her fingers and brushing her thumb against her clitoris. *Ugh, why does my husband have to be so pathetic?* she wondered bitterly, even in spite of the slight pleasure she received from having her throat fucked.

NSFW: yes

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