The Family Feud IV

Chapter Forty Seven
Wendy’s Journal: When Your Husband Tells You To Shove A Lemon Up Your Ass – You Do It And Say ‘Yes Sir’.

**Note to reader: This is an excerpt of Wendy’s journal from Thursday morning from her perspective. The events take place around 11:30 am after Bill’s journal in chapter 46. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a ‘narrative’ story format.

CASH EARNINGS THURSDAY

WENDY: $0 WEIGHTS: 0
JAMIE: $50 WEIGHTS: 0

I have to admit that when the guys started hazing us with humiliating disciplines I thought it could not get worse.

They made us go outside naked and do jumping jacks so our tits and ass bounced and dress like sluts and I played along.

My son made me hug the shovel handle he had planted in the backyard and stand naked while neighbor boys peeked over the fence and giggled and I played along.

My husband sent me to work and put one of my subordinates in charge of me and I masturbated every day right in front of him while he emailed my ‘progress’ to my husband - I played along.

The neighborhood gossip came over and Bill made me pretend to be everything she thought I was and more while he gave me one of her ‘old fashioned enema colonics’ and I was supposed to act like I saw the country wisdom in her teachings and play along.

I thought to myself every time that it could not get much worse and eventually the guys would run out of ideas and this whole thing would naturally run its course.

That was several weeks ago and now I was just told to shove an entire lemon up my ass after I finished sucking my own dog’s cock in the yard. I smiled and went to the kitchen, took the lemon out and actually washed it off for some reason before twisting it and pushing it up my ass and returning to my husband like a good little slut.

“Do you like that lemon?” Bill asked me.

“Yes Sir?” I answered him nervously – unsure what he was asking.

“It is going to be your lunch,” he chuckled.

“Thank you – you are too kind Sir”.

“Sarcasm?” he detected the subtle tone in my voice. Was I supposed to be happy I would be eating a lemon that I had shoved up my ass?

“No Master, I am thankful you have chosen to remind me that through my own folly and error we have very little food in the house and this is one of the last edible things,” I was able to assure my husband I was being a good girl – and accept my part in our financial problem with one smooth statement. It was difficult to say out loud but there were worse things they could make me eat and I knew that too.

Bill had worked to put me through a University when we were first starting out. I joined the Sigma Alpha Pi sorority because my mom had been a member. I had seen the movie Animal House and Revenge of the Nerds before I ever went to college and I thought it was going to be a lot like that.

They named their pledges “Otter” and “Flounder” and Bill and Chris had named us “Ass Face” and “Cow Tits”.

You can picture sister pledges getting spanked in dark basements and being hazed on campus in humiliating ways. Images of the Senior girls dressed in robes with lit candles as freshmen girls sat on stools in the nude and recited the Sigma Alpha Pi pledge might flash through your mind.

Thanks to a few kids getting sick from alcohol poisoning and the politically correct day and age – they aren’t allowed to do that anymore – at least not officially.

Unofficially in the earlier 1990s when I went to college – I played along with the rituals and initiation games to get into the sorority. I never told my husband about the spankings and candle-lit walks in gossamer thin nightgowns out in the campus gardens because it had all been fairly harmless, playful hazings. I had pretty much forgotten those experiences or at least put them to the back of my mind just like I had some of the modeling in the buff I did to make a little extra cash.

What can I say – college was a place to experiment a little and I was young and not so wise then.

I had known when we agreed to let the guys get payback on us that they would spank our butts and give us a hard time – but having faced an initiation week at my sorority I thought I was ready for what they could throw at me.

“Smell this finger, bitch” Bill held his finger under my nose and I inhaled for him. It smelled as nasty as it always did and I didn’t understand – he made me clean it off and I dutifully complied.

“That was that hot little Delilah’s pussy juices,” he laughed before asking Chris if he thought she looked like Betty Page.

“Who is Betty Page? That girl from the Archie comics or something?” Chris asked. Even I had heard of the notorious Miss Betty Page –pin up queen from the 1960s. I assumed Chris was pretending to be stupid because he tends to know a lot of trivia – especially about pornography it seems.

“That sweet country accent, pale skin, perfect rounded ass and jet black hair,” Bill said out loud as if describing Betty Page’s similarities to Delilah would help Chris understand the reference. Bill ordered me to go get the coffee pot I had pissed in earlier and squat over it in the kitchen. I did exactly as I was told – I knew I would be dripping Roscoe’s cum into it for later.

Bill walked into the kitchen after having me wait a minute over the coffee pot while squatting on the kitchen tile. He unzipped and said “You can suck my cock, but I will be thinking about Delilah while you do. What do you think of that?”

Was he trying to make me jealous? If so he wasn’t succeeding. I sometimes think he gets in these moods where he tries on purpose to see how far he can push me before I will freak out and tell him I won’t do this anymore.

“I think you should move about a step closer so I can reach your big cock with my face and still drain my cunt over this coffee pot, Master”. I smiled at him - not giving him the satisfaction of getting me upset or seeing me jealous.

He smiled back – and obliged me by shoving the length of his cock down my throat. He was never delicate with me for blowjobs and he had become rougher. I gurgled and sputtered while I took his length down my throat. Just as he became rougher in how he choke fucked me I have become better at swallowing all of his dick – it’s strange as I write this I feel a sense of pride and accomplishment at that skill.

“You like that dick, huh?” he said as he pulled my hair and forced my face down on his dick. I timidly nodded yes with a face full of his dick.

“Whose mouth is this?” he demanded. In nearly twenty years of marriage Bill never did dirty talk with me until the last few weeks –now he does it all the time. I imagine that rough talk will continue well after this discipline is over and I don’t mind. I agreed my mouth was his as best I could as he slammed his dick past my tonsils and down my throat.

His dick reminds me of a water balloon for some reason. I just relaxed my throat muscles and allowed him to fuck my face like it was my pussy and agreed to every degrading question he asked me until he climaxed in my face.

“Hold out your tongue” he snapped a photo of me holding his cum on the tip of my tongue while squatting over the coffee bowl naked. It wasn’t the most humiliating picture of the day for sure but it was definitely humiliating to picture these going out on the internet.

He typed some things into his phone and I wondered if he was texting or keeping a journal of this like I do. In the years I have known Bill I wouldn’t think he was much of a journal keeping kind of guy – but he certainly has changed a lot over the last few weeks so maybe that changed too.

“Okay, turn around and bend over so I can inspect your cunt and spit that cum into the coffee bowl.” I did as I was told and bent over with my legs apart.

He slithered a cold finger into my cunt and held it apart. He took a few more pictures with his phone. I could have complained about the point of the pictures and how it wasn’t fair to keep them after this was over – but they had already taken so many a few more wouldn’t change things.

In a strange way – this journal is like my mental picture of what has happened to us and our strange evolution as a family. I suppose he is just saving himself 1,000 words with each snapshot he takes. I do want to remember the details of everything. I can picture myself at 70 years old looking at Bill’s old photographs of me and Jamie with a mixture of pride that we made it through this and humiliation that we ever did it in the first place.

“Push the lemon out a little it’s too far in there. I want it to be half way in and half-way out so that it’s hanging out of your butt.” Bill demanded and I obliged him by forcing the lemon I had pushed up my ass back out part of the way. He wanted it to stretch my asshole at the widest point of the lemon but with as much asshole training as I’ve had it did not bother me.

“We are going to visit some of our neighbors and you are going to be a good slut and not embarrass me, aren’t you?” Bill asked. I almost laughed that he thought I might be the one to embarrass him but I knew he meant that I was to be obedient.

“I will try to be a good slut when we do, Master”

“What happens if you are displeasing to your betters when we visit them?” Bill asked while I remained bent over with my ass spread before him.

“I will be punished Sir?” I knew I would be – and as usual I was right.

“Aww is that a tear in your eye? Do you think I should apologize for being so strict?” Bill asked condescendingly.

“No Master, you are right to be strict,” I answered him. I resisted the urge to sigh because I knew he was enjoying making me say this.

“Why do I need to be strict on you?” Bill asked me with a smirk on his lips.

“You need to be strict so that I will continue to be a good whore and earn for the family and not chicken out on the streets.” That was the absolutely the truth. I knew if he relented in his treatment of me – if either of them did, I would not have the gumption to get out there like I was and suck cocks for money.

“That is true,” Bill said “But also because you are lazy, good for nothing but sucking or fucking the cum out of dicks slut aren’t you? And if I were to relent on the discipline you would misbehave and not apply yourself wouldn’t you?” Bill was asking the exact same thing I just said but in different words. I smiled and agreed with him that he was right and that satisfied him.

“You like playing this game don’t you, slut?” Bill sneered at me. I wasn’t sure what to say here or what game he was talking about.

I thought about it – was the right answer here that yes I liked playing a game with him or no I did not? Either way I would get my tits slammed in a vice literally or metaphorically so I just went with the truth.

“No master, I don’t enjoy playing this game,” I could see on his face he was unhappy with my reply. “I would prefer we had our house back but we have lost it and now we are doing what it takes to get out of the hole we have fallen into,” he seemed a bit happier with that logic. I continued “It is a game I don’t want to play with you but I know you are doing it for my own good and I will be a good sport about it,” I smiled and added “Even if this lemon is way too big to be up my butt.”

“You got all of the dog cum out of your cunt?” he asked very seriously. I told him I did and he let me stand up, turn around and bend over to pick up the coffee carafe and drink directly from it – the coffee was cold, bitter and tasted like piss. I could barely stomach it and if I hadn’t recently become a piss drinker I would have spit it out for sure.

“I love the look on your face when you swallow something disgusting,” he laughed.

I set the coffee back down in the coffee maker and quipped “I bet you do sir. May I do my exercises now?” I was going to have to do jumping jacks, deep knee bends and mostly exercises that made my tits and ass bounce anyway – I might as well volunteer.

“Hell nah slut, you are trying to delay going to the neighbors to say your goodbyes aren’t you?” I wasn’t but Bill may have been teasing me. “Get your naked lemon butt upstairs and fix your hair and whore makeup – you have five minutes to be back down here smelling nice and looking like a good slut!”

“Yes Sir!” I hurried upstairs and it was with a little sense of loss that I looked over my bathroom. It had once been a sanctuary to me – tranquil and well decorated. Bill had already pulled a lot of stuff out for sale and they had only left me with cheap bubble-gum pink lipstick and blue eye shadow.

I had become adept at quickly caking on the makeup the way they liked – trailer park whore style. I ran my fingers through my hair – they had left my curling iron at the motel and jogged back downstairs.

“Look at those tittays bounce,” Chris was leaning against the stairwell. I gave him one of the lemony looks his sister gives when he teases her and he just smiled me down the stairs. “Boogidy-Boogidy,” he urged me on and handed me the only clothes left in the house as he slapped my bare ass. “You look good mom,” it almost was a compliment until he added “You look like a first class whore now.”

They weren’t as slutty or trashy as the clothes I brought from the motel. The guys much preferred micro-mini skirts and half tops and there was twice as much material on this skirt and tank top as they would normally allow. This was probably the sluttiest clothes the Waxermans had around the house until my son gave them mine.

However, it was also designed to fit a 16 year old girl who probably weighed 100lbs and didn’t have the curves I had - Squeezing into this thing made me look ridiculous and I could barely snap it around my waist.

“You look like 200 pounds of dog shit stuffed into a 100 pound bag,” Bill looked me up and down as I stood at the door way while he gave me a quick inspection.

“You’ve wasted enough time gallivanting around,” he prodded me out the front door adding “It will have to do.” Bill spoke to his son as if I was a new lawn mower they wanted to show off. “Should we go to Mort Goldman’s house or hit up Dave Volgel?”

“You mean Herschel Kauffman’s house?” Chris asked bewildered by the question as we walked down our driveway.

“No, I mean Mort Goldman or Dave Volgel’s houses,” Bill clarified with a bemused expression. He didn’t even ask why his son had asked the question and just pointed in the direction of the Volgel house across the street and we both followed him.

“Dad if there was ever a zombie apocalypse I would want you to be leader of the group,” Chris said as we crossed our street. It was sunny and there was not a lot of traffic – just a long strip of large five bedroom homes in the middle of the suburbs.

“That is cool son, but I don’t think that is going to happen anytime soon,” Bill half-ignored his son as he answered him.

“Yeah, that is when they happen though – when you least expect them.” Chris said but his father didn’t even acknowledge his son’s weirdness.

If Chris had looked over his shoulder at me following the two of them he would have seen I was smiling at his random jokes. I found it difficult to walk in the 2 inch heels now that I had become accustomed to spikier heels. I was also walking a little bow-legged due to the whole lemon wedged in my ass that was threatening to pop out if I moved too quickly.

I didn’t know the Volgel family very well. We had seen them at block parties and a few social gatherings but they generally kept to themselves. I was already embarrassed and nervous when Bill rang the doorbell but I stood behind the two as if we were trick or treating and I was going as a slut this year.

Dave Volgel opened the door. He was wearing one of those black sleeveless shirts that Larry the cable guy wears except it had the Harley Davidson insignia on it. He was in his mid-60’s about six foot tall and 275 pounds – I didn’t remember him looking so imposing when we had been in social settings.

“The only Bill that doesn’t come in the mail!” He greeted my husband first with a broad smile.

I guess despite his large stature he comes across as a teddy bear when he is talking to you.

“Chris Taylor I heard you died?” he asked quite seriously. My son stood there as if he was confused.

“Did you not lay down the boogie and play that funky music until you died?” our neighbor said with a gleam in his eyes.

My son continued to stand there while the large man smiled, waiting for some recognition that he was joking. “Average white band? No they probably don’t put that on the iPhones or iPharts or whatever you kids listen to these days. So what brings you here to my humble mess?”

He was cleaning a wrench with a soft chamois and I could hear the sound of Judge Judy in the background. He had a beard and dark blonde hair and I could see a big tattoo on his muscular bicep.

“Is now a bad time? My wife had some things she wanted to say to you,” Bill seemed a bit nervous now that we were here.

“Now is a terrible time, my fucking dog just died, my wife left me, and I have cancer you asshole!” Dave answered bitterly.

“Oh really?” Bill was instantly regretting having come over – I could hear it in his voice as he tried to sound apologetic.

“No not really, come on in and take a load off,” he invited us in with a grin. He was working on an engine part in his living room for a motorcycle while watching a large screen TV. He turned the sound down and said “I would offer you a beer and a sandwich but my wife is in the other room and every time I’ve asked her for one in the last thirty years the answer is always no – so I didn’t want to ruin her perfect record.”

He was clearly amused when he first saw the way I was dressed. “Mrs. Taylor, my you have some interesting taste in clothes. Who is your tailor? Mini-me?”

“Cop a squat,” Dave took a chair in front of the motorcycle he was working on and asked “What can I do you for?”

Bill and Chris sat down next to him and there was an open chair for me. I looked at Bill and Chris – I hadn’t sat in an actual chair in weeks. Bill nodded that I could sit in the chair and I quickly obliged – feeling my weight push the lemon back up my ass as I sat down but not letting on.

“Oh Hello, I didn’t know you had company, can I get you all something to drink?” Dave’s incredibly sweet wife walked into the room to introduce herself as Pam.

“No they thought they would like to die of thirst from the looks of them,” Dave’s wife was clearly used to his good natured jokes because she thought nothing of it and asked us what we would have. When it came my turn I looked at Bill and he said “She will have a cup of warm water if you have it – no ice”.

“Water? I don't drink water, fish fuck in that,” Mr. Volgel’s joke was so quick I don’t think anyone even noticed. I laughed pretty hard when I was typing my journal later – he was definitely clever.

“Oh, do your teeth hurt, hon?” Pam asked me without acknowledging her husband and I looked at Bill once again.

“No, she is on a special diet.” Bill answered for me. I could see Pam look me up and down at how I was bursting out of the seams of the dress and I could tell she was probably thinking the diet wasn’t working since the clothes I had on were way too tight.

“We were just getting ready to go dress shopping for my eldest daughter’s wedding but it is nice of you to come over – kind of unexpected.” Pam went into the kitchen to get the drinks.

“Yeah, I can hardly wait to spend my entire day doing that with you dear!” Dave’s sweet tone was laced with sarcasm but in a funny-annoyed way.

“Between you and me, He turned to us “If wedding dress colors indicated your virginal status, my daughter’s would be a deep shade of whore.” Chris laughed but Bill remained serious. I could tell Bill had not expected Dave to be so affable and good natured.

“Woman hurry up with those drinks or I will slap you so hard even Google won’t be able to find you!” Dave yelled into the kitchen.

Pam was already walking back with the drinks on a tray and dismissing his harsh language. “My husband is as harmless as a fly,” she laughed as she served us each drinks. The guys took their drinks and said nothing but then Bill looked at me and coughed.

“Thank you for the drink Ma’am” given the nasty things I have swallowed in the last 24 hours it was remarkably flavorless and I was truly thankful.

“Oh you are quite welcome dear,” Pam smiled at me and went back into another room – if she thought my saying ‘Ma’am was unusual she didn’t let on in the least.

“My wife believes the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results – so she stopped cleaning the house every day.” Dave said loud enough his wife could hear on her way out.

“I heard that!” she called back playfully from the next room.

“I know that!” he replied while smiling and replied coyly “So why aren’t you cleaning?”

Dave had seemed so quiet and to himself for the last decade or so he had been our neighbor. I was really surprised by how at ease he put me and how funny he was. I wondered if my relationship with Bill would be like this in twenty more years.

“Chris, remember touch it gently, put two fingers inside, if its wide use three fingers, if its wet rub up and down,” Dave’s voice was sexy until he held up his coffee cup and added “That is how you wash a cup,” and rubbed his thumb around the rim with a salty expression.

“Honey, you haven’t washed a cup in years,” His wife was getting ready to leave and walked in for him to zip the back of her dress up.

He zipped it up and said “You haven’t cleaned a straw in about thirty years either,” he smacked her on the butt.

“Oh hush, we have company” she looked at us with a smile on her face as if to say ‘isn’t he funny?”

“Why? Would you clean a straw if we didn’t have company because I’d kick them out in a heartbeat.” He asked her but she was already heading back into the other room and ignored the question while she fixed her hair.

“Don’t worry – we aren’t going anywhere for about three hours. It takes that long for her to fix her face and get ready. So what did you want to tell me?”

Bill seemed like he was already rethinking whether or not he wanted me to proceed. He just looked at me to speak.

“We are getting ready to move, Sir” I told him while taking a sip of water.

“You have no idea how sad I am to hear that,” Dave was serious for a moment and I waited for a punch line or quip but none came – He obviously knew when to joke and when not to joke.

“I remember when Chris was a little boy and he hit a baseball through my window. That was about eight years ago, you remember that Chris?” Dave asked and my son nodded that he did. “That was the last time you guys were here so I have to ask why did you come over here to tell me this?”

“I came to apologize for being such a distant and inconsiderate neighbor Sir,” I said with humility. “I could have gotten to know you better or been a better neighbor and now that the bank is taking our house, we will be moving this weekend. My husband thought it might be a good idea if I came over and asked for your forgiveness.”

“Do you always do what your husband says to do?” Dave asked me with a smile on his lips.

“Pretty much, now I do, yes sir.” I answered honestly.

“Care to trade wives?” he asked Bill with a wide grin.

“I heard that!” Pam called back to him playfully from the next room.

“I know that!” he yelled back while smiling “They won’t make the trade so I am stuck with you.”

“I guess I will miss the show from now on,” he was calm and explained “The one I saw this morning in the window across the street.” He had seen me naked in the window and it hit me as a surprise that he was just now mentioning that. I could feel my skin turn red.

Bill and Chris smiled in recognition that he already knew about what I had been doing.

“My wife thinks I am bird watching but I’ve enjoyed seeing you and your daughter play in the sprinklers in your itty bitty bikinis and run up and down the driveway doing some sort of laps.” Dave said with his voice lowered so his wife could not hear.

“I know what you have been looking at!” Pam said playfully from the next room – obviously hearing every word that was spoken.

“Then why don’t you look like what I have been looking at?” Dave answered her with a mischievous grin while still looking straight at me.

“Sorry about that Sir,” I apologized again – I was blushing. I thought after all the things I’ve done in public it would be hard to make me blush but here I was feeling a fresh wave of humiliation. He had seen all the times my son had made me exercise on the lawn during the day and even when we mowed the grass in thongs.

“What is there to apologize about? There was the day my grandsons visited that I had to scrape the little buggers off the window. They all wanted to see your darling daughter bouncing around in her little bikini!” Dave smiled.

“Don’t be disgusting, Dave” Pam reminded her husband sweetly from the other room.

“After twenty years with you I am afraid it is a bit too late for that, don’t you think dear?” Bill answered her playfully.

I have to admit I was smiling at the back and forth between my neighbor and his wife. They reminded me of how my son and daughter would playfully banter. There was a practiced comedic timing between the husband and wife like one might find in one of those old Dick Van Dyke sitcoms and it put me at ease.

“I don’t want you to embarrass our guests. They didn’t come over here for you to make your perverted jokes.” Pam said more seriously from the other room.

Dave leaned back in his recliner and considered that for a moment. “The old dingbat brings up a good point. I said earlier it has been about eight years since you last paid me a visit and now you come here. I may not be a smart feller but I am no fart smeller either. So what brings you here for real?”

“Did you just say I was stupid, Dear?” Pam jokingly announced as she walked into the room fixing her dress.

“No, there was no past tense about it. I said you ARE stupid, Dear.” Dave’s impish grin was evidence he was kidding but she smacked him on the shoulder anyway.

“Actually the reason we came here was for me to apologize for being a bad neighbor. You pointed out that we hadn’t bothered to come over for the last eight years and that was mostly my fault. I was too busy with my career to encourage us to ever get to know you – and obviously you are wonderful people.” I had been holding my breath and blurted out something akin to an affirmation speech.

“Oh hon, the fault is ours as well. If we had made the effort to invite you over for dinner over those eight years I am sure you would have come.” Pam was too gracious to allow me to do the apology my husband wanted me to do.

“My husband and son wanted me to come over here and apologize for being a bad neighbor and invite you to come over and have a look around in about an hour. We are selling everything before the bank takes the house, Ma’am” I repeated. There was something about seeing Pam’s face that reminded me of my mother. She had a stern face but there was a hint of a smirk because of her husband’s humor that softened her features.

“Oh so it wasn’t to give me a goodbye blowjob, it was to get me to come over and buy some of your stuff before you leave?” Dave laughed and his wife slapped his shoulder immediately to shame him for his forward joke.

“I think she’d give you a goodbye blowjob if you wanted,” My husband answered his joke seriously.

“How do you know it was your wife I was asking to give me one?” Dave replied with the same humorous delivery of his previous jokes – still thinking my husband was kidding.

“Aren’t these two precious? Why do we let them talk this way about us?” Pam asked me with a chuckle and her hand resting on her husband’s shoulder.

I looked at Bill for some sign that we should quietly pretend to be joking and leave. Bill just stared at me with a look that said there was absolutely no way that was going to happen. This couple seemed so nice and quaint that I felt bad just spoiling it by being serious – but I did.

“My husband is the boss of me, if he wants me to suck someone’s dick I will.” I looked at Chris who was smiling and added “Taylor men rule, Taylor women drool.” - A saying that I had been forced to repeat many times in my training.

“Now why can’t you be more like that?” Dave chided his wife – still uncertain if I was kidding or not.

“Hey, we used to swap in the 1970s! I totally get it,” Pam said without judgment in her voice to us.

“Yeah but they always swapped you back right after,” Dave laughed and she gave him another poke to his shoulder for his kidding.

“Some of the gossips in the neighborhood have been very busy talking about your family – but believe it or not, there are quite a few people who go in for that kind of thing here.”

“There are three ways to get a message across Cherry Lawn estates, Telephone, Television and Tell-a-Waxerman,” Dave laughed. “So you are going to let her suck my dick or what?”

“And take Chris and Bill in the other room and suck them off as well?” Pam replied with a big smile of expectation on her face?

“Yeah!” Dave almost stood up out of his chair! I could see from the looks on my son and husbands face that this was unexpected but happy news!

“No, I don’t think that is going to happen, do you, dear?” Pam answered with a dead pan but slightly amused look to a husband who was comically sulking in his chair.

“You know when I met you I only had a black and white television, driving a cheap car, sleeping on a sofa bed in a tiny little apartment but at least then I got to sleep with a twenty five year old!” Dave said churlishly.

“Now, we have a nice house, nice cars, big king size bed and plasma screen TV, but now I'm sleeping with a 55-year-old woman. It seems to me that you are not holding up your side of things."

“First, I am only 49 years old dear,” Pam declared with a bemused expression.

“Yes dear, I know but for how many more years will you be 49?” Dave answered wryly.

“You can go out and find a hot 25-year-old blonde, and I can make sure that you would once again be living in a cheap apartment, driving a cheap car, sleeping on a sofa bed and I would even buy you a 10-inch black & white TV you can watch there with her, would that be okay?”

“Gang, it’s probably time for you to be heading back out now,” Dave’s abrupt goodbye to us was his way of answering his wife’s joke with one of his own but we stood up to leave anyway. We were all a little embarrassed – at least I was.

That was when the lemon popped out of my skirt and rolled onto the carpet.

There was a pregnant pause while we stood there and watched it roll on his carpet. “Bring your own fruit with you do ya?”

I was mortified. I stood there frozen. We were about to leave with my dignity relatively intact and here the lemon in my ass had slipped out.

“Pick it up and put it back in.” Bill said without any concern for what the neighbors would say.

“Yes Sir,” I felt a wince in my eye as I bent at the waist and picked up the lemon. I couldn’t look at Dave or Pam Vogel as I slid the lemon under my skirt and into my asshole.

“Air freshener?” Dave made a joke adding “Give your asshole that lemony fresh scent?” and his wife bopped him on the shoulder again to be quiet.

“Tell the man why you had a lemon up your ass the entire time you were sitting here, dear?” Bill’s voice was laced with sadistic sarcasm in a mockery of Dave and Pam’s playful banter.

I stood there as I finished easily shoving the lemon back into my nether regions. “It is to remind me that through my own inactions and losing my job we don’t have very much food in the house, it is my lunch today Sir”.

“Oh that is terrible, please stay for lunch!” Pam answered immediately.

“Sure, but my wife eats her lunch on the floor naked and she’ll only be having lemon. You sure you want us to stay?” Bill interjected.

Moments later we were walking to Mort Goldman’s house.