The movie I had her pick was called Anal Island, about a group of tourists who visit a Caribbean island where everybody mysteriously ends up having anal sex with each other. She selected a fairly average sized vibrator on her own, but we had frequently used toys before. Remembering a few times we had gotten playful, when we went through a section with bondage equipment, I had her select a pair of fur padded handcuffs, and by the way her breath caught in her throat and her nipples crinkled, I knew that was a hit. Then at the counter, I whispered into her ear to select a couple of tubes of flavored lubricant. Her face was red but her nipples were standing at attention when she finally opened her purse to pay for everything.
Outside, the first thing she said to me was, "I can't believe the things you get me to do!"
"We at the Buckman Group pride ourselves on the Carl Buckman Experience, and work hard to make sure it is memorable." I stepped up behind her and rubbed against her rump. I knew she could feel me stiff inside my pants. "We work very hard."
Marilyn whimpered. "Okay, you win! Please, can we go home and fuck! Just take me home and fuck me! Please?"
"Oh, but the Buckman Group has an entire evening of enjoyment planned out for you!" No we didn't, I didn't have a clue actually, but I wanted to keep her guessing. Certainly, seeing her frustrated like this was quite interesting.
Still, we had to get home and get Becky back to her family. Once in the car, I allowed Marilyn to put the batteries in the vibrator and give it a test. We got back on the highway and I drove south, back towards York, and through, towards the Maryland line. A few miles north of Maryland I pulled off the highway and drove to a small Italian restaurant. I teased her that I was going to make her sit half naked at the bar, but they didn't have a bar, and we were seated at a booth towards the back. It was dark enough that I had my wife undo all but the top button of her skirt, and when the waiter wasn't around I slid closer and slipped my hand between her thighs under the table cloth. It was like a sauna there, she was so hot and moist.
When I touched her there, Marilyn almost jumped out of her skin. "Please, let's go home and go to bed! I need you so bad! Please, let's go!"
I shook my head, and we had a quick dinner and a glass of wine. I wanted to get to bed, too, but it was almost as much fun teasing her as screwing her would be. Almost.
On the way home, as the sun sank in the west, Marilyn used the vibrator on herself, and I stopped teasing her and allowed her to come repeatedly. It was less than a half hour drive, and she got herself off at least three times. Finally, as we neared the house, on a small bend on Mount Carmel Road around the corner from the house, I pulled over. "You'll probably want to get decent, unless you really want to shock Becky."
"I don't think that would be such a good idea!" Marilyn giggled, and tossed the vibrator in the bag with the other purchases, and reached behind her and grabbed her clothing. The panties went into the bag, but she managed to pull her camisole back on and not look so much like a wanton harlot out for a good time.
"Not unless you want to get burned as a witch! The rest of the Carl Buckman Experience will have to wait for later."
"There's more?", she asked, eagerly.
"The best part!"
I waited for her to finish getting dressed, and then put the car back in gear. We drove around the corner and looked up at the house. Flashing red lights were in the driveway.
Chapter 79: Trouble
"What in the hell?", I said, half to myself and half to Marilyn. Suddenly I was glad we had gotten our clothing back together. I turned up and into the driveway, and parked behind the Baltimore County Police cruiser with the lights flashing. When I had laid out the grounds, we put in a large circular driveway, able to hold more than just the two cars we had at the time. At least we weren't blocking him in.
I climbed out of my side of the car and looked around. At the front door a policeman was talking to Becky, who was holding Charlie in her arms, and Dum-Dum was on her leash, straining to get loose. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but what was going on? Everybody had turned towards us when I pulled into the driveway. I limped over as Marilyn ran towards her baby. Charlie didn't seem all that bothered, but simply held his arms out towards his mother, who took him from Becky. Dum-Dum tried to climb up Marilyn's leg to play.
"What's going on?", I asked. Both Becky and the officer tried to talk at once, with Dum-Dum barking and Charlie talking up a storm to Marilyn. I made the time out signal. "One at a time."
"Who are you?", asked the police officer
"I'm Carl Buckman, and this is my wife Marilyn. We live here. What happened?"
Becky was nodding in agreement. Any further response was stopped when another car pulled into the driveway and Becky said, "It's my mom! I called her, too."
Lauren Devlin hopped from her station wagon and came running up. "Are you all right? What happened?" She looked very accusatorily at both me and the cop.
I just shrugged. "We just got here, too." I turned back towards Becky and the officer, Branson according to his name tag.
"Who are you, ma'am?", asked Branson.
"This is my mother. I called her right after I called the police.", answered Becky. "I thought I saw somebody and I got scared."
My eyes opened at that, and I looked at Branson. "We got a call about a suspicious vehicle, and I was routed out here. Whoever was here, they weren't here by the time I got here."
Dum-Dum was being a real nuisance by now, what with all these visitors here to play with her. I took Charlie, who was very curious, but otherwise fine, from Marilyn, and she dragged the mutt inside. She really didn't miss any of the conversation. Becky tried to explain what was happening, but her mother kept badgering her for more details. Mom seemed more concerned than Becky.
The gist of it was that Becky had noticed a green car driving up and down our side road three or four times, parking several times near the driveway. The driver never got out, and she couldn't clearly see who was driving the car, but she thought it was a man. The first time she hadn't thought about it, and Becky was hazy on how many times it happened. Once she had seen the car parked there, but when she went to a different window to get a better look, the car left. Another time, she only saw the car as it pulled away. When the sun started to go down, she got nervous, and eventually called both the State Police and her mother.
As Becky went through her story, Marilyn and I looked curiously at each other. It got stranger when the police officer started asking everyone some questions. Did we know anybody with a green sedan? Did Becky know somebody with a green sedan? Who knew we were going out tonight? Who knew Becky would be here alone? It was curious to consider that maybe somebody was following Becky and not us, but maybe it was a disgruntled boyfriend.
Nobody knew anything, and Officer Branson decided it was time to go back on patrol. I delayed him for a second. "Becky, your family lives in Hereford, right?" I looked at both Becky and Lauren as I asked this.
Becky nodded and Lauren replied, "Yes, about five miles from here, back down Mount Carmel Road. Why?"
"Well, maybe Officer Branson can follow you and make sure everything is okay. Better safe than sorry, right?"