The Jet Lag Story

by Alexi92

This story is really bad. When I wrote it I was still under the initial strain of jet lag. Am I still jet lagged? You bet, but not to the degree I was when I wrote his piece of crap story. I don't expect you to write it, but I thought it might be interesting to show you what kind of stuff I would produce under the influence of such exhaustion.

Mr. Bridges lined up the putt, almost perfect.

"Stay still, or would you like me to call your husband up here so he can see this?"

"No sir!"

"Right. And pull your damn cunt open more, the ball is at least as big as your loose hole."

Mrs. Louise Appleton used her fingers to pull open her large cunt. She could feel the breeze from the office's air conditioning hitting her insides. A ramp lead right up to her hole, and she waited to feel the golfball slam into it.

Mr. Bridges swung. The ball traveled across his office floor, up the ramp, and right center into Louise's vaginal opening, where it stuck.

"Be a dear and expell that, would you Mrs. Appleton."

Louise flexed certain muscles and the ball shot back towards Mr. Bridges. He coralled the ball and prepared to make another putt when the intercom on his desk buzzed. the forty-five year old executive leaned over and pressed a button.

"What is it Samantha?"

"Mr. Graves has just died," Bridges secretary explained.

"The old man? Really? Do the other's know?"

"They've been likewise informed, yes sir."

"Okay, damn, has a meeting been called yet?"

"Yes, in twenty minutes."

"Okay, I'm on my way."

"Yes sir."

Bridges looked at the putt and sighed. "Well Mrs. Appleton looks like you get a break today. I'm not going to have time to fuck you today, although I have reserved the rest of the afternoon, so if you'll just stay like that for a while, I'll have my secretary come in and check on things."

He grabbed his coat from the hanger on the door and took a moment to look at the twenty-seven year old housewife lying naked on his floor, her hands trying to keep her cunt open as wide as possible. He sighed regretfully and walked out.

As he passed his secretary he picked up the notes she had prepared for him.

"Please take care of Mrs. Appleton, will you Sam?"

"Yes sir."

And with that he walked towards the elevator so he could make the meeting.

When he was out of sight Samantha got up and walked into his office. Louise was still perfectly still when the secretary entered and closed the door behind her.

"Well, Mrs. Appleton, it seems I've got you for the rest of the afternoon."

Louise sighed. Bridges she could handle, but Sam was a bitch.

"Tell you what, Mrs. Appleton. Why don't you just eat me out for a few hours and we'll see if we can get you home before your husband. I think accounting is going to get off a little early today due to Mr. Graves' death."

"Mr. Graves is dead?"

"That's right, you fucked him didn't you. You're a real whore Louise. It would be a real shame if Fred found out, wouldn't it. Well if you don't want him to be suspicous, you're going to need to pick up the kids today. And that means I better get off early as well."

Sam unzipped the back of her skirt so that it fell onto the floor. She was wearing no underwear, just the way Bridges liked it. Carefully she stepped out of the skirt and sat on the edge of Bridge's desk.

Louise got off the floor and crawled between Sam's legs.

No one knew the lawyer. It wasn't all that surprising, the old man did have other things going on in his life besides the conglomerate. Still considering how much time the company took from Mr. Grave's life you would have thought someone on the board of executives would know the lawyer.

"As you know the Grave's Coporation was privately owned by Mr. Graves."

Everyone on the board nodded. That was common knowledge.

"At the time of his death Mr. Graves had no heirs, so he felt that he should leave the entire sum of his vast estate, including this company, to someone within this company."

That caused a stir amongst the executives.

"A Mr. Frank Appleton."

That created an outright protest. Leonard Underwood, senior vice president stood up.

"The whore's husband?"

Frank Appleton was nervous. It wasn't every day that he was called to the president's office. Frank was only a middle manager in the accounting department, he didn't do anything that should have even registered on Mr. Graves' radar.

But at 1:30 in the afternoon a message came through that he was to report to Mr. Grave's office immeadiatly. The worst part was the long elevator ride to the top floor. He was certain that it had been designed to go slowly so as to intimidate anyone that actually had to travel up to the top floors of the Graves building.

Mr. Graves' secretary, a busty blonde woman that couldn't have been older than twenty-five, looked at him curiously. She was very beautiful, and knowing Grave's reputation, probably a good fuck.

Not that Frank's wife was anything to sneer at. Louise had kept herself in shape

remarkably well the seven years since they had been married. That wasn't easy after having three kids.

"Mr. Appleton?"

Frank turned. A grey haired man holding a briefcase, probably in his fifties, was standing by the doors to Mr. Grave's office. The man's attire was very professional, the kind of professional you expected from doctors, lawyers, and morticians.

"Um, yes."

"I'm Mr. Kobayashi, the executor of Mr. Graves' estate. I'm afraid that Mr. Graves passed away earlier today."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Really. From what I understand you never met Mr. Graves."

"Well, no, but still, it's sad to hear he's dead."

"Remarkable. Mr. Appleton, if I could just speak to you inside Mr. Graves' office there is something that I need to discuss with you."

"Um, I don't know if we can do that."

"I assure you, Mr. Appleton, we can. Now if you'll just come inside."

Kobayashi opened the large doors to the office and Frank followed. The room was huge, as befitted the president of a multi-billion dollar company. It was bigger than Frank and Louise's first appartment. Of course they hadn't been able to afford much back then.

Even so, the office was even bigger than the living room in the house the Appletons were living in now. It had everything, a book case spanning the entire wall littered with tomes of no doubt great importance, great works of art hanging above an impressive television set up, and the biggest fucking desk Frank had ever seen. Frank could feel his breath being taken away.

"Impressive?" Kobayashi asked.

Frank nodded dumbly.

"I'm glad you like it. According to the terms of Mr. Graves' will this is your office now."

Frank turned so that he could look straight into the lawyer's eyes. "What?"

"Mr. Graves has decided to leave his entire estate, totalling well into three billion dollars, to you Mr. Appleton. Amongst the things passed down include the ownership of this company, and thus this office."

"But that makes no sense, I never met the man."

Mr. Kobayashi nodded. "That is true. But I'm afraid your reputation precedes you."

Frank, never the most imaginative person in the world became confused. "What?"

Kobayashi laid his briefcase onto Mr. Graves'... no onto Peter's desk and opened it. He took from it a video tape which he proceeded to place into the VCR of the television set up.

"I believe Mr. Graves wanted to explain this to you himself."

Frank watched as Mr. Graves' elderly face appeared on the screen. The video had obviously been taken on one of Mr. Graves' worse days, his infeable body swayed across the screen as the old man tried to steady himself and failed. Due to the sheer size of the face on the screen Frank could see why Mr. Graves thought it nescescary to make out a will, the man had more wrinkles than a prune.

"Is this fucking thing on?" the pretaped Mr. Graves groused. "What? Fine. Appleton, this better be you I'm talking to. If not Kobayashi isn't worth the millions I pay him every year. If that is you I've got some explaining to do.

"There's a reason I've given you all this shit. It's not because I like you, I never met you before. But I have met your wife."

"Louise?" Frank asked Kobayashi. "When did he meet Louise?"

Kobayashi just motioned back to the screen.

"Yeah, I met your wife. Listen to me Appleton, she's the company whore. She fucks the executive's here for money. I know you don't know. Fuck, I didn't even know until that asshole Underwood invited me to some executive party. Your wife was the entertainment. She stripped then she pulled a train. I'm ashamed to say I fucked her. I'm sorry, I didn't know she was married until after the party when Underwood told me.

"Listen, I don't like this. My brother's wife used to lead a double life, she was a whore too, didn't tell him about it. He joined some club or something that helped him get her off the streets. I don't think it'll be that easy for you.

"I've hired private investigator's to find out about this for you. They all tell me that you love your wife and you have no idea she's being used as a plaything by every vice president in the company. She waits 'til you go to work then she comes to the building and the office of whoever booked her for that day. Either that or they go to your house and fuck there. She has about five appointments a day. Then she picks your kids up from school and pretends to be the wonderfully doting wife.

"I don't know what you're going to do, but I've invested a lot into this. I don't think it's right, and I thought maybe giving you everything I had might make up for the role I played in all this.

"One more thing. I'm sorry I didn't say this to your face. Sorry."

The screen disolved into static.

Frank kept watching the snowy patern move incredulously. "That's insane."

"I'm sorry," Kobayashi said."

"You don't understand. He's wrong. There's no way my wife would..."

"Mr. Appleton, I've been told to play another video if you remain unconvinced."

"Another video?"

"Security tapes from this building showing your wife and some of her appointments. There's no sound, but I believe the visuals should speak for themselves."

"Another video?"

"Mr. Graves was very thurough."

Mr. Kobayashi played the second video.

Frank watched as his wife serviced a succesion of men. Louise wearing a tight pink teddy giving a blow job. Louise naked, her body pressed against an executive's desk as he took her from behind. Louise dressed as a french maid masturbating with a duster as a man watched from behind his desk. A woman with a black hood covering her head, her naked body obviously Louise's, on all fours being caned. Louise doing an erotic strip tease, already down to her tassles and g-string, rubbing her ass into a vice president's crotch. Louise spanking the ass of a man lying over her lap. Louise wearing nothing but a diaper sucking at the tit of Janet, the company's only woman vice-president.

"Turn it off, I get the idea!" Frank yelled.

Kobayashi stopped the tape using the remote. "Again, I'm sorry."

"God, and she was paid for this?"

"From the company payroll," Kobayashi agreed.

"She told me she was just a secretary!"

"According to the records, she was."

"I don't believe this."

"Should I play the tape again?"

"No! I mean I can't believe this is happening to me. God! How long has this been going on?"

"From the information Mr. Graves has provided, I believe this has been going on for seven years, a mere six months after your marriage."

"God, it was her idea I get a job here after college. What am I going to do?"

"As a lawyer, might I suggest divorce?"


"Yes, I'm reasonably sure we can get you custody of the children. After all you are financially secure and able to spend your time devoted to them, wheras your wife is a morally corrupt prostitute. It should be realtively easy to convince a court that you can provide for them more adequately than your wife. If you want custody that is."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"According to blood tests Mr. Graves ran none of your children have been fathered by you."


"Indeed. I'm not even sure if you wife is aware of their true parentage."

"She didn't even use birth control?"


"Oh god."

Frank felt himself losing control of his legs so he fell back and sat on the desk. His life was falling apart around him and all he had to comfort himself with was three billion dollars.

Mr. Kobayashi pulled a file from his briefcase. "While you consider your options I suggest you read this file that Mr. Graves prepared for you. It explains the full extent of his estate and offers suggestions about how to use it."

Frank took the file and placed it on the desk. He didn't even bother to glance at it. He was just staring ahead of him, at nothing.

When he finally snapped out of it Mr. Kobayashi had gone. The office was dark. Frank glanced out the window and saw that it was already night. He took the file from the desk and walked out of the office.

The secretary was still there.

"Quiting time Mr. Appleton?" she asked.

"Yeah," he muttered.

"See you tommorrow."

Frank grumbled.

The drive home was mostly done by instinct. He still couldn't get over the fact that for the last seven years his wife had been a prostitute. A prostitute at his company to make matters worse. And it had been her idea! She wanted him to work there so she would know that while she was fucking other men her husband would be in the same building.

His whole marriage had been a sham. They weren't even his kids.

When he got home and walked through the front door his kids ran to him. He looked at their angelic faces and realized he couldn't hate them. They were his kids, he had raised them, loved them, and they had loved him back. Hell, it was like adoption.

"Daddy!" his youngest, Jenny, only four, yelled as she jumped into his arms. He pikced her up and she giggled. "Your late."

"A lot happened at work."

"Mommy's really mad."

"Who cares?"

Jenny looked surprised at this but giggled again.

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Peri, the oldest at seven, pulled at his pants leg.

"What is it?"

"A bad man came over today."

"What?" Frank froze, worried.

"He came over after mommy picked us up from school. He yelled at mommy and made her cry. Then he told me you weren't my real daddy."

"Oh? Did he say who was?"

"He said he was."


"I hit him in the balls."

"You did good, Peri."

"Really?" Peri beamed proudly.

"Really. I'm your father, in every way that counts."


"Can we watch TV?" Joey asked imaptiently, not wanting to waste time like his sisters.

"Sure, but only until nine."

His kids ran to the living room, except for Jenny who squirmed, signaling she wanted to be let down. He put her down and she followed her siblings.

Frank made his way to the kitchen where Louise was waiting for him, sitting at the dining table. She looked at him crossly.

"I heard you're the new CEO of the company."

"And I heard you were a whore. Funny day isn't it?"

"Look, I can explain about that."

"Save it. I'm not in the mood to hear it. I've got work to do."

Frank went to the fridge, took out a beer and retired to his office to read Mr. Graves' folder.

The next day Frank went straight to his new office on the top floor. After a good night's sleep in his office he felt a little better. He had ignored Louise's attempts to talk to him that morning, and instead focused on what he was going to do.

He was going to breeze past his new secretary, but then thought better of it. His secretary was wearing a dress with an even lower cut than the other day, showing off a generous amount of cleavage generated by her large breasts. He stopped in front of her desk.

"Good morning Mr. Appleton."

"Morning. Listen, I'm not sure what your name is."

"It's Lisa."

"Lisa. Good. Listen, I'm going to be rather busy today so I'm not to be disturbed. Also, can you schedule a meeting with all the vice-presidents today after lunch. Attendance is mandatory."

"Can do Mr. Appleton."


"Is there anything else?" Lisa asked seductively. She pushed her chest forward. Frank hadn't thought it possible. "Mr. Graves always liked to have

"Er, not at the moment. Maybe after the meeting."


Frank wasn't sure how to feel about the offer as he sat down at his desk so he decided to be wistful. If he had the time he certainly would have liked to indulge in something, but a part of him pulled back. It was the part of him that realized that he was still a married man, even if his wife had been cheating on him.

Frank had no delusions that his marriage was anything but over. He couldn't live with Louise and the knowledge that she had don all those things. He had to move on. But as long as they were legally married Frank wanted to keep the moral high ground, which meant no fucking around.

Besides, he had a lot to do before the meeting.

"Who does that little shit think he is?" Underwood raged. "Just because Graves wanted to give the whore's husband the company doesn't mean he runs it."

"Then why are you here?" Janet Adams sighed.

"I want to tell him who's really in charge here."

"What, you?"


From across the table Bridges snorted.

"Problem bridges?"

"We've all fucked his wife. What makes you so damn special?"

"If you'll recall I was the one who convinced her to become the company whore. Before I came along she was just a secretary."

"That's as maybe, but how does that do us any good."

"We blackmail the little shit. Tell him that if he doesn't cooperate we let the world know what kind of whore he's married to."

"Really? I was kind of hoping that we wouldn't tell him. There's nothing more fun than fucking your boss' wife behind his back."

"Don't be silly."

"What if he doesn't go for blackmail."

"He wouldn't risk it."

"Why not?"

"I know men like Appleton. They'll give anything to keep their happy little lives perfect."

At which point Appleton walked into the board room.

"Hello all, you're all probably wondering why I called you here. Long story short, I've sold the company to a known front for a terrorist organization so everyone here is probably going to be investigated by the federal government. Hope no one's done anything illegal. As for me, I made a pretty penny and get to fuck you all over like you fucked my wife. Bye."

And with that Frank Appleton left the room leaving a dozen stunned executives trying to figure out how to cover up a variety of white collar crimes.

When he got home the moving vans were being loaded. He smiled, it always felt good when things came together. He climbed out of his car and approached the closest mover.

"How much longer until everything's packed up?"

"We're almost done, another twenty minutes or so?"

"Good, good. You've got the address to take everything to?"


"Good man." He gave the mover a ten dollar tip and went inside.

Louise was frantic.

"Frank what's going on? They said they had orders to pack up all the kids' things."

"That's it? I thought I told them I wanted my office packed up too."

"Damn it Frank, what's going on?"

"Resettlement Louise. Resettlement."

"Frank. This doesn't have anything to do with me does it?"

"A little. Can't be helped."

"Look, I only fucked around because we needed the money. You were in college and a secretary's salary wasn't cutting it. They gave me six figures a year. High six figures."

Frank sighed. "You didn't have to fuck for the money."

"What else was I supposed to do?"

"That's fucked up Louise."

Now it was Louise's turn to sigh. "Whatever Frank. What happened to my one o'clock? He didn't show up."

"He's probably busy trying to hide any evidence of criminal activity."

Louise did a double take and stared at her husband angrilly. "Damn it Frank, you better not have screwed up a good thing! We need that money."

"We never needed the money. Not if it came from prostitution."

"Don't be stupid Frank, where do you think this house came from? Or the cars? Do you think we could have afforded them on your salary?"

"I can't believe you're trying to defend this!" Frank shouted angrilly.

"Why not? It's not like I'm doing anything wrong."

"Are you fucking insane?! You're a whore, Louise! You sell your body for money, and then you come home and try to pretend you're just a happy little homemaker. That's fucked up! That's more than fucked up!"

"So what do you want me to do about it?"

"I want you to stop."

"I can't."

Frank sighed again. He didn't think she would, still he had to offer her one last chance to prove she still respected him. He went to their bedroom and packed anything he couldn't buy somewhere else into a suitcase.

"What do you think you're doing?" Louise asked.

"What does it look like? I'm leaving." Frank began rumaging through the closet for the tie Peri had given him last Christmas.

"Where?" she aske worried.

"I bought a place in the country. Very nice, very big. There's even a good school nearby for the kids."

"The kids? You're not taking them."

"Sure I am."

"You can't, they're not yours, they're mine!"

"Not really. My lawyers are having you declared as an unfit mother. It's the whole prostitution thing."

"You don't have any lawyers."

"Louise, what part of filthy rich billionaire do you not understand?"

"I'll fight you."

"Go ahead. I've got billions at my disposal, you've got a bunch of John's being investigated by the federal government." Frank stopped and looked up from his searching. "Hey, I wonder if they'll see your abnormally high salary and start investigating you too. Probably figure out what you were doing and bust you on prostitution charges. Huh. That'd be irony."

Frank went back to searching for his tie.

"Damn it Frank, you can't do this!"

He found the tie and put it in the suitcase. "Actually you'd be surprised with what you can do with a few billion dollars. Let's say that again, a few billion dollars. And while it skeeves me that you'll probably get a few million of that in divorce court, I think I can live with it. Besides, under the circumstances, I bet I can leave you with practically nothing."

He shut the suitcase with a satisfying slam.

Louise grabbed his shoulder and spun him so that he faced her. She put on her most seductive come hither look and smiled. "Listen Frank, you don't need to go to all that trouble. I'm sure we can work things out. After all, I'm quite flexible. In more ways than one."

Frank pulled his shoulder free. "Yeah, I'm sure we can't. Somehow the fact that my wife is a lying whore ruins the mood."

And with that Frank went to pick up the kids.



Author's note:

See what did I tell you? Craperific. I refuse to even give this a real title, it shall forever be known as "The Jet Lag Story."

Countdown until I stop writing these things (I really mean it this time): 5 stories

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