Curing a Hoarder - Part 3

 Part 1:  Free Advice is worth what you pay for it: Curing a Hoarder - Part 1

Part 2: Free Advice is worth what you pay for it: Curing a Hoarder - Part 2

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Her car was gone when I got home. No note, no dinner, no Becky. I'm not a "dinner on the table by 6:00" kind of husband, but she usually gives me a hint. Without a thought, I preheated the oven and dropped a pork loin that I had been marinating in my roasting pan and hit the button for 350F.

With an hour to kill, I cleaned my office, paid a few bills, wrote a strongly worded letter to my brother who's been putting off a visit, and then texted Becky.

I'm home, dinner in 30, pork, potatoes or rice pilaf?

A few minutes later my phone chimed.  Finish the pork then come over.

Where?

Jen's house.  We've been busy.

Intrigued, I washed the potatoes and put them in the fridge, sliced a tomato, chopped some green onions, and tossed the salad. The oven timer went off, the meat thermometer said 146, and the tinfoil covered it all. Oven off.

Ping! Wear work clothes.

Ping! And bring gloves

Ping! and the boxes...

Ping! and the black CKs I like.

The last one caught me off guard.  The CKs were my Calvin Kleins boxers. Becky loved them, snug, thin, almost like wearing nothing at all, but why were they part of the request?

Eager to find out what was going on, I packed up the 250 with the boxes, changed clothes, surprised to find myself getting hard as I dressed by request, and drove over.  Jan and Jason were only a few houses down. I pulled in and parked next to Becky's Rav 4 that was already full of boxes and full black garbage bags.

Becky walked through the garage to greet me dressed in her baggy gardening shorts and a t-shirt, with no bra. Literally my favorite outfit. She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me, passionatly.

She took my hand and slipped it down the front of her shorts and lifted her leg and put her foot on a box.

"You are dripping." I said, incredulous.

"We've been busy." Becky said. "Now, when you go in, it's better than before, but nowhere near done.  Just remember what it looked like last Sunday.' 

I extracted my fingers, she licked them clean, and we walked in.

The living room, was, of course, still a disaster, but it was a more organized disaster than before. 

Jen was on the couch, playing on her phone, wearing a sports bra, panties, and a small chocker that I recognized.

"Hello Jen," I said, "Your progress is impressive."

She turned off her phone and looked at Becky.  

Becky nodded and made a gesture I didn't understand.  Jen slipped off the couch and on to her knees on the floor.

"Thank you Sir," Jen said, eyes on mine, "Ms. Becky has been very helpful."

"And how do we say thank you?" Becky asked.

Jen crawled over to Becky and kissed her feet. 

"Good Girl." Becky didn't miss a beat, "Tell Mr. Jones what we have done today."

"Everything?"

"Everything." Becky patted the couch, giving Jen permission to get off the floor.

"Becky..." Jen stopped, "Ms. Becky came over and brought me Chipotle for lunch and said we were going to start my training." 

"Everything?" Jen looked at Becky.

Becky nodded yes.

"A clean house needs a clean body," Jen said, "so we went upstairs and she watched me take a shower, then she made me pump while I was naked, and then she dressed me in this." She gave her arms a flourish. "I was so wet, but she wouldn't let me do anything!  Such a tease."

"What's the rule Jen?" Becky asked.

"No Reward without work." Jen said.

"And have we been working?"

Jen looked around the living room, "Yes Ms. Becky."

"And what is the reward?"

Jen blushed deeply and fell back into the couch cushions. "ORGASMS!"

"Describe the game," Becky said as she slid over to Jen and stroked her inner thighs.

"A touch for every bag, fingers for every box, and a climax for every load to the Donation Station?"

"And how many times have trips have you made?" 

Jen's hand slipped between Becky's thighs and up under her shorts as if she owned her.

Becky's eyes rolled back in her head, and she spread wide for Jen's touch. "We are loaded up for trip #5"

"Can I make you cum Ms. Becky?" Jen moaned as her fingers came to her mouth, covered in my wife's slippery wet.

Becky pulled off her shorts revealing her shaved lips.

"Mr. Jones is going to watch." Becky said as her t-shirt this the floor, "Undress him."

Jen crawled over to me and reached for my belt buckle. I put my hand on her forehead and stopped her.

"Show me the system." I said.

"What do you want?" Jen asked.

I repeated the rules, "A touch for every bag, fingers for every box, and a climax for every load to the Donation Station."

Jen jumped up, eager to earn a reward, eager to show off her new skills.

"Towels" Becky said.

Jen walked to the hallway closet with Becky, still naked, close behind.

She opened the linen closet, stuffed with towels, new and old.

Jen pulled out an unwrapped set and looked at Becky.  "Wrapped means returnable." She handed the bundle to me, "Living room table."

I hurried back.

Jen reached to the top shelf and Becky's hand slipped between her thighs, brushing lightly over the gusset of Jen's panties.  She came down with another set, "New, Opened, Keep" they set it on the floor and Becky kissed her lightly. Another set, "Old, Usable, Donate!" 

That set earned Jen a short, but deeper kiss, and the set went in the black garbage back I was holding.

 And so it went. 

When Jen found a set of towels once owned by her Grandmother, she hesitated.  They were ratty and grey, and she held on to them.  Becky put her left hand on Jen's neck, gently pushed her against the wall, and pulled her right breast out of her bra.  Her fingertips barely grazed Jen's hard nipple.

"Fill the bag." Becky whispered.

"But grandma..." Jen sighed.

Becky's hand dropped and rubbed two circles around Jen's clit.  "Fill the bag."

"Sorry Grandma," Jen said, and I took the towels from Jen and put them in the back and whisked it away, knowing the intoxication of my wife's fingers, now inside her panties, would fade and she would want them back.  

My wife, my beautiful Becky, pulled her fingers out and licked them clean, then kissed Jenn gently.

I was hard as a rock and Becky pulled my pants off to show me to Jen.  The thin material was damp with my precum.

"With Mr. Jones' truck, we can do a few more bags..."

"And boxes!" Jen added.

Jen got to work.  A stack of blankets, some with tags, were sorted, folded, and boxed.  As I sealed the box with tape, Jen bent over the coffee table and pulled her panties down. Her lips were swollen and pink and beautiful, and my wife split them with her fingers, slowly stroking in and out, edging Jen dangerously close.  As Becky felt the first twitches of climax, she stopped, wiped her fingers off on her shirt, and pointed to another pile. Jen moaned in frustration each time.

Each bag earned a kiss, a caress, shared in both directions. Jen's mouth suckled on Becky's breast, and Becky nursed long and hard on Jen, drinking the mother's milk. When I finished a box, taping it up, labeling it, and loading it to my truck, I got a treat, a taste of Jen's milk on Becky's fingertips, my wife's hand on my cock, a chance to stroke Jen's ass, stomach, and neck, but no more.

Finally, the truck was full. Becky grabbed her keys and tossed me mine.  I went to get my pants, but Jen stopped me.  

"That's a rule, too, she said, "drive as you are."

I laughed and followed them out to the garage.

We realized that we had 2 cars and three lovers.  Jen took Becky's hand. 

"I get her on the way over," Jen said, 

"And I get her on the way back." Becky replied and they kissed.

They pulled into the donation lot right in front of me.  Becky hopped out, her engorged nipples on full display, her shorts riding low, hinting at the coin slot.  She opened the trunk and reached up, and the donation helpers couldn't help but stare.

"Student Jen!" Becky called out, "don't make these fine volunteers do your work!"

Jen stepped out and the volunteers froze.  Jen's hair danced over her shoulders, her full breasts were barely contained by her bra, and her panties hid nothing.  Jen unloaded box after box and 10 bags then held out her hand.

The young man who was "helping" could barely talk.

"A receipt please." Jen said.  

The young man shook his head, ran inside, came back, and handed it to Jen.  She shook his hand, said thank you, then pulled him close and kissed him on his forehead.  He might have cum at that very moment.

They got back in the car as if nothing happened and drove back to the house.  I pulled up to the donation area, "Did you see those two?" the young man said.

"I did," I smiled at him, "The hot one is my wife."

"Which one is that?" he asked, unable to choose.

When I pulled in, Jason's car was home.  "SHIT" I thought to myself, my pants were on the living room floor.

Jen met me in the garage and took my hand.  "Becky is talking to Jason." she said, "Everything's fine."

She led me by the hand into the living room. Jason was gently but securely tied to a chair.

Beck stood in front of him.  "Since Jason didn't help, he doesn't get a reward." she said, pulling her shirt up and over her head. "When he works, he wins." 

Jason was amazed at the progress.  He was getting his house back.  Becky told Jen to explain the rules. His only question at the end was, "How many tips have you made to the Donation Station?"  knowing what the answer meant.

"Four with Ms. Becky," Jen said as she walked over to me and kneeled on the floor, "But only one with Mr. Jones.'

She pulled my shorts down, and took me in her mouth.

Curing a Hoarder - Part 2

Start Here:  Free Advice is worth what you pay for it: Curing a Hoarder - Part 1

Church that day was interesting. We sat in our regular pew, and,  as if scripted, Jen and the kids came in halfway through the Eucharist and sat near the front. Jason was already up front helping with the service. I got my wish. She was in the green dress. I liked it because it had a flowy skirt and a snug top that accentuated her nursing mother figure.

After the services were over, we split up into small group for a while but Jason waved to me through the classroom door window and I stepped out to talk to him.

“I need your help,” he said, “and I think we need to do something today.”

“What's the urgency?” I asked.

“I got an e-mail this morning from my bank.  Jen opened a new credit card and because of my promotion, the credit limit is almost 10 grand.” He took a deep breath at tried not to get too emotional, “I don't have room for $10,000 of crap in my house.”

I thought deeply about Becky's approach, going over and seducing the tired and horny young mother into an encounter that would give her the sexual release that she so desperately needs. She hadn't had an orgasm in months, ever since the boy was born, she needed something, she needed release, but then I thought of something else.

“Have you tried to put your foot down as the man of the house?” I asked.

Jason stammered a bit which gave me the answer I suspected, and he said that he tried but that it was difficult. He was trying to be sensitive to the emotional needs of a new mom who felt a bit overwhelmed.

I squared up to him, “What she needs Jason, is a steady hand at the wheel of the family ship. She needs to know that you are capable and in charge and ready to lead. I'm not gonna play armchair psychiatrist but out of control spending is a symptom, to bring order to chaos and get a little adrenaline rush.”

I put my hand on his shoulder and led him away from the other parishioners so we could talk more directly. This was not a conversation to be having next to a priest.

I looked him in the eye, “When was the last time you fucked Jen?”

He blushed and stammered and started to say that it was none  of my business

I told him to stop blubbering and reminded him that he had asked me for help.

“I'm going to help you but you have to step out of your comfort zone, you have to give up the week capitulating man you have become.”

With that he started to argue, “I lead 75 people at work and we are the top performing sales division in my company.”

“I don't give a shit about that, and neither does Jen. That's not what I'm talking about.” I tried not to sound too frustrated, “ When is the last time you stripped your wife naked and fucked her?”

“I'm not sure I like where this is going.” he said

“Do you want to spend $10,000 on Teemu imitation purses? Or do you wanna get your wife back?”

“I want to get my wife back, of course.”

“What?” I stepped in on him, “Say it like you mean it.”

He squared his shoulders a bit, “I want to get my wife back.”

“Good.” I put my hands on his shoulders and helped him slow his heart rate. “She needs you to be strong, forceful, and she needs you to be in charge.”

I checked my watch.

“Becky and I will be over at 3:00 today. Send the kids to your mom's house, make sure the baby's down for a nap, and leave your front door unlocked.”

“What’s going to happen?” he asked.

“Leave that to me.” I said.

My heart was pounding when I found Becky by the women's auxiliary room. I waved to her and took her out of class and said we had to get ready.

“Ready for what?” She asked

“We are taking control of Jen and Jason, today, at 3:00 pm. We have to train them both.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Becky and I got home and hopped in the shower.  The water was hot and soapy and her razor was sharp and fresh.  I shaved her bare, not that it needed much, but at the end she was as smooth as silk.  I plunged my tongue inside her and brought her to orgasm quickly.

She stood at my side, me, washed my back and chest, then wrapped my cock in her right hand and penetrated my ass with her left as we kissed deeply.  My climax soon followed, and we kissed some more, washed up, and got dressed. 

Our outfits were simple, I was in jeans and a black t-shirt, Becky was in a white tank-top, t-shirt bra, a knee-length summer skirt, and simple white panties. Had a few minutes before leaving, so we made out on the couch for a while then remembered to pull out a pork roast to thaw on the counter for dinner.  Then we walked up the street.

I turned to Becky, “Follow my lead.”

Jason must have warned Jen we were coming over.  The couch was clear for the first time in weeks (months?) and a couple of mismatched chairs completed the conversation circle.

Jen came out of the kitchen when she heard us in the living room.

“I’m sorry,” she said, drying her hands on a towel, “I didn’t hear the bell.’

Becky stepped in and gave her a long tight hug, and she didn’t let go until Jen visibly relaxed in my wife’s arms. Jen’s muffled cries were buried in Becky’s neck.

They pulled apart, Jen wiped away the tears, and Becky kissed her tenderly on the forehead.

“We are here to help.” Becky said.

Becky stood next to Jen and held her hands.  Jason walked into the room.

I pointed to a spot next to me and Jason stood where he was told.

“I am not here to counsel, cry, or talk.” I said, “I am here to fix things the best way I know how.”

I looked at Jen, then Jason.

“You two are in pain.” I started. “Jen is overwhelmed, tired, spent, and going a little crazy with the shopping.”’

Jen started to object, but Becky leaned in, kissed Jen on the ear, and said, “Listen.”

“Jason is frustrated, unsure how to help, and torn between being the loving supporting husband that he is and being the captain of the family ship.”

I looked at Becky and she shifted her position and stood behind Jen, still holding her hands, pulling Jen’s arms gently behind her, between their bodies.

“Jen,” I asked, brushing her long brown hair away from her face, “when was the last time you had a long hot bath.”

“Weeks.”

“When was the last time you at dinner sitting down?”

“Days.”

“When was the last time you had an orgasm?”

She startled at the question, but Becky held her hands firmly behind her back, and I saw Becky shift her hips, pressing the front of her skirt against Jen’s fingers.

“June 14^th, my birthday, 3 months before Alex was born.”

“Good Girl.” I said, watching Jason’s puzzled reaction. “Was Jason with you?”

Jen looked down at the floor.

“Look at your husband Jen.” My voice was firm, not stern, “This isn’t about guilt, but honesty.”

“No,” Jen said, “I was alone.  We got a babysitter, but she had to leave early, the night was a mess, and Jason was dealing with the kids.”

“Tell me what happened.” I stood between Jen and her husband, “just me.”

“I showered, I was so tired, but so worked up, my hormones were on fire, my breasts were growing, I wanted Jason to touch me so much, but…” Her voice trailed off.

“But?” I asked.

“But Jason didn’t want to hurt me, or the baby.”

“So what did you do?”

“I used my vibrator.”

“How?”

“Uhm, that’s kind of pers…”

I cut her off.  Becky’s arms wrapped gently around Jen’s waist, holding her comforting her, but also tracking light fingers circles on her stomach.  I felt Jason step in closer.

“How?”

“I pulled off my panties and rubbed my clit and turned it on high.”

“How did that feel Jen?” It was Becky’s lovely voice.

“It felt really good.”

“Did you put it inside?” Becky asked.

“Yes.” Jen moaned as Becky’s hands cupped the young mom’s breasts.

“Did you thrust it in and out Jen?”

‘YESSS.”

“But what did you really want.”

Jen lifted her eyes to Jason.

“I wanted my husband to fuck me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jason whined behind me.

“Stop whining.” I said, “Do what she wants.’

Becky’s hands lifted Jen’s shirt up and over her head. Her bra was soaked with milk.

“Are you the man of the house?” I challenged Jason.

“Yes.” His voice was a pathetic quaver.

Becky unhooked Jen’s bra and it dropped to the floor.  Becky held Jen tightly, keeping her upright.

“What do you want Jen? A man or a mouse? A Captain or a bilge rat?”

Becky stepped over to me and unbuckled my belt, pushed down my zipper, and released my rock-hard cock.

Jen dropped to her knees, “I want a man,” she had tears in her eyes, “I want my husband.”

I looked at Jason, “Well?”

Jason elbowed me out of the way and stood before his wife. Jen unleashed fury on his pants and had them down around his ankles in a heartbeat.

Becky held Jen’s hair back from her face, pulled the ever-present hair tie from her wrist, and wrapped up Jen’s hair into a braid.  My beautiful wife looked up at Jason, then down to his almost naked wife.

“WELL?” she said, “Fuck her!”

Jen devoured Jason’s cock, wrapping her arms around his hips and pulling his shaft in as deep as she could take.  I pulled Jason’s pants down and off, then did the same for his shirt.

Becky helped Jen out of her sweat pants and panties as Jen opened wide and allowed herself to be taken.

Becky stroked Jen’s back, shoulders, and breasts while Jason took his wife’s throat. Milk dripped from her full nipples and Becky caught it on her fingertips and tasted it.

I stood at their sides, watching my best friend fuck his wife for the first time in months.

“Jen!” I spoke loudly, “do you love your husband?”

Jen gasped as pulled herself off just enough to say “YES!” with drool on her chin.

Becky’s hands drifted up and down Jen’s body, and then between her legs.

“JEN!” I spoke again. “Are you willing to honor and obey Jason, your husband?”

“YES” she gasped as Becky’s fingers penetrated her aching cunt.

“Jen.” I lowered my voice, “are you willing to admit that you opened a new credit card for 10,000 without telling your husband?”

Jason froze, mid-thrust. Jen burst into tears.

“I’m so sorry.” She moaned.

“On her back.” I said to the room.

Jen tried to hide her face, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She repeated.

Becky held her by the wrist, not allowing her to hide, pulling her to the floor, naked, dripping. She laid back in Becky’s lap.

“Look at Jason.” I said. “He loves you, he misses you, he needs you.”

I waved Jason over, his hard cock glistened with his wife’s spittle. I pushed Jen’s legs open. He took the hint and slipped his cock inside her for the first time in months.

Jen gasped, tried to pull away, then sighed.  She looked up at Becky, “That feels really good.”

Becky leaned in and kissed Jen on the mouth, their tongues playing,

“Don’t tell me,” Becky said, “Tell her husband.”

“It feels good Jason,” she cried again, “it feel really good.”

Jason started thrusting into his beautiful wife’s pussy. Long deep strokes, full eye contact.

Becky held Jen in her lap and played lightly with her friend’s nipples.

“Taste them Jason,” Becky said, “They are yours.”

Jason leaned in over his wife, Jen wrapped her legs around his hips, and we watched them kiss and rut against each other.

“Cum for me.” Jen begged, “Cum inside me. Cum inside me.”

Jason kissed his wife deeply and climaxed, he hips thrusting deep, staying there, as he emptied his heart into her.  Her climax followed close behind. Months of tension and distance and need, released.  Two souls reconnected.

Becky pointed at something behind me and I pulled a blanket off a large pile of blankets that engulfed the piano bench. I covered them. 

Becky found pillows among dozens and put them under their heads.

Jen looked at Becky, took her hand, and pulled her in for a sensuous kiss.

“Thank you.”  The kiss lingered through the words.

Jason took my hand, and I said, “I’m good,” and we laughed.

Becky crawled over and sat next to me, leaning against me.

Jen looked at us both.  “What about you two?” she smiled, “do you want to finish?”

Becky looked at Jen, then me, then my slowly softening cock.

“This is about you two.” Becky said as she stood up then helped me to my feet.

“However…” she took my cock in her hand and stroked me, “There is always next time.”

I zipped myself up and kissed Becky deeply.  On the table was the new credit card.  I picked it up and held it over my head, "I'll be taking this." I said, "this is just our first therapy session."

Before we could even get off the porch, sounds of love filled the air.

Curing a Hoarder - Part 1

Jason complained to my wife, then he complained to me.

"She just won't stop!," he said, showing me a credit card statement filled with Teemu, Amazon, Etsy, and Facebook Marketplace purchased

"And it's all SHIT!" he cried out, almost in tears.

Jen was a new mother, stressed, trying to care for a beautiful 7-month-old baby boy while dealing with a 12-year-old daughter and an eight-year-old son. It was hard, he tried to understand, but Jason was at the end of his rope. 

"I'm running out of money, space, and patience." he said in a text.

My wife went over while Jason was at work to assess the situation.  He wasn't kidding.  Box after box was stacked in the living room.  Many still sealed, worse, too many open with contents poking out, starting to tip, scatter, and cover what little floor space was left empty.

Becky came home and said it was worse than she imagined.  Jen wouldn't get rid of anything. 

A broken air-fryer "could be fixed".

An unfinished puzzle would be completed.

A sewing project would be a really cute dress, size 4y, for a daughter pushing 13. 

A "million-dollar idea" to "revolutionize" hospital gowns had covered her sewing machine for 9-months.

And freeze-dried food, emergency MREs, and prepper material stacked in the corner, collected for the "inevitable" fall and confrontations predicted in scripture.  

"Thank God she doesn't like guns," Jason said, "or we'd have an armory to deal with." 

Jen told Becky that she hadn't had sex with Jason since the baby arrived even though labor and delivery had been a breeze. 

Her shopping intensified post-partum which gave Becky and idea.

"She's tense, overwhelmed, exhausted, and completely pent-up." Beck said.  

Beck stood up and began to pantomime the moment, "She was sitting at her kitchen table, tears in her eyes, looking at a stack of unpaid bills, and, you know, I felt awful.  I stood behind her and patted her on her shoulders, and she asked for a hug, begged really, So I leaned down from behind, and wrapped my arms around her."

Becky bent over to demonstrate, and her t-shirt gapped a bit, showing her beautiful bra and cleavage.  

"But she was sitting down, so all I could do was wrap my arms around her shoulders and my hands brushed against the sides of her breasts and she gasped, and you know what, Gary?" she asked.

"What?" I played along.

"I think she had a mini-gasm."

"What?" I asked, suddenly very interested in her story.

"Seriously," she continued, "I think she would have cum if I touched her on purpose. When we pulled apart, her t-shirt was damp, she's still nursing you know, and she started to leak, and f-me Gary," she said, shivering as she stood tall, "It was so so so sexy."

"You should have helped her out." I said, only half-joking, "She obviously needs release."

"I've been thinking about it ever since," Becky said, "I know she's on your Hall Pass list, you stared at her at church for 9 months while she was pregnant and I caught you trying to catch a glimpse while she was nursing at the Anderson's party."

I waved Becky over and unzipped my pants, scooting to the edge of the couch.

"Can I help being attracted to beautiful, fertile women?"

I pulled my pants and boxes to the floor and pointed at my hard cock.  Always the obedient wife, she got on her knees, pulled her hair into a ponytail, and took me in her mouth.

She kneeled in front of me, "I don't blame you when it comes to Jen."

Becky was a dream wife, beautiful, thrift, organized, great in the kitchen, wonderful with the kids, and compliant and subservient in bed, or wherever her skills where required.  

As I slowed pumped my hard cock in and out of her mouth, I mused out loud about how I could help Jason.

"Jen needs to cum, cum hard, and cum often." Becky's tongue swirled around my head, and I held her in place, thrusting up into her, controlling her, using her as my inspiration.

"I could send you over," I teased, "you could clean her bedroom and get her nursing station clean and ready.  When little Cody is ready, you bring him to her and help him latch on.  As he drinks from her full nipples (I thrust a little harder), you rub her shoulders, neck, and breasts. When Cody's done, you pull out the nipple cream and apply it for her."

I felt Becky's mouth tightening around my shaft. I sit and pull Becky's skirt up high above her waist, giving her bare ass a slap, a sign that she is to spread for me.

"You may touch." I say as I lay back. Becky's free hand slides between her legs and she begins to moan.  

"Depleted of milk, exhausted and aroused, she gives in to your touch, and you take her breasts in her hands and play with them, pulling them to your lips, as you taste her milk, sucking out the last drops as your hand spreads her aching thighs. Putty in your hands, she spread and begs, and you give her the climax she so desperately needs."

In perfect timing, Becky cums  on her fingers and buries my cock in her throat, signaling she is ready for me, and with that permission, my orgasm fills her mouth, and our groans fill our home with the sound and scent of pleasure.

Her hips twitch in climax and she grinds her chin against the base of my cock, swallowing every drop.

I hold her head in place and fill her until she pushes back and gasps for air. 

She sits back on her ankles, makes a show of swallowing the last drops, and brings her glistening hand to my mouth, giving me the gift of her wet fingers.

She falls forward, kisses the tip of my still pulsing cock, licking the droplet that hands in the tip, and smiles up at me.

"Do you think Jason will go for it?" she asks?

I lean in for a kiss, tasting my cum on her breath. "He might not need to know."

We both laugh and help each other up.

Time for a shower, we don't want to be late for church.

"I hope she wears the green dress," I say.

"I like the blue flowered one." Becky says, removing the last of her clothes before the shower.

"Why that one?" I ask.

"Because she can't wear panties with that skirt," Becky winks, "and I like that."

She takes me by the hand, and we go upstairs, hoping to find a way to help our friends.

Part 2: Free Advice is worth what you pay for it: Curing a Hoarder - Part 2