I gave out the information I could, but it wasn’t much, and I never heard any more from the cops about my family.Marilyn was very nervous when we left the police station that day. I drove over to the office, and we told what was going on to John, who immediately called a security company. I didn’t like it, but I liked Marilyn being threatened even less. Marilyn was going to get a bodyguard, at least during the day when I wasn’t around. The security guards were from a company John had used in the past, and the company was owned by a former Secret Service agent. We also had a guard posted at the office.Marilyn wasn’t amused by any of this. Neither were some of my friends from high school, who suddenly found themselves being questioned by the cops about a guy they knew ten years before. Hell, I wasn’t amused!After a couple of days at home with Marilyn, she decided to go shopping, so I called the security company and got somebody to come out. Once they left, I did something I didn’t. They then walked into the bathroom, and stepped into the large shower. The water was hot, but not scorching; the space filled with steam, as she took a washrag, and gently stroked the soapy cloth over the body of her man. She slowly and carefully rubbed all his skin, and as the water rinsed off the foam, she kissed his skin in all the right places. She smiled as his cock grew to stiff attention, and she handed the washrag to him, as she turned around in the streaming fountain from the showerhead, to face the faucets. He washed her just as carefully, massaging her full, perfect breasts, kissing the nipples, and running his hands under the swelling globes. He ran the cloth down each side of her torso, down her spine, and made sure that he detailed the soft spots between her thighs; he knelt down and washed her legs, and then her feet, lifting each one off the floor of the shower, as she held onto the support bar set in the wall of the enclosure. She took the rag from him, and grabbed.
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