Show-and-Tell - Part 1 (Patreon)

Update: Re-wrote the story.

George, home after his arduous three-hour workday, rides the moving floor through the front door. Opening with a -whoosh- he sets his briefcase down on the entryway table as he passes, destined for the living room. Jane, having dozed off while watching some mid-2020s sitcom re-run on the telescreen, jolts from her slumber. She's barely dressed, wearing little but a see-through dressing gown and nothing beneath it.

Most days, just as soon as George leaves for work, she dresses down into something sexy and enticing. Less for her benefit and more for the shortlist of delivery and repairmen that regularly come to her door, a simple négligée combo will suffice. For a special few, the well-hung mailman, for instance, she'll answer the doorbell wearing only a pair of high heels and a smile. Few, if any, ever say no when the mature, sexy, and scantly-clad housewife comes to the door.

After a tryst or two, she always changes back into her usual...and not so flattering...pink and purple dress before her husband comes home. He's certainly not the worst in bed, but hardly the best. For a constantly sex-starved woman like Jane, five minutes of fury followed by five hours of slumber just isn't going to cut it.

Jane: (thinking) Shit, shit, shit! Think! Think of something, quick!

From his vantage point, George can only see the back of his wife's head, unable to see her frantically looking for something to cover herself with. If push comes to shove...quite literally, if it comes to that...she can always claim that she purposely dressed like this, waiting for him to come. The drying man-seed covering most of her lower body might be a little harder to explain away.

George: Honey, I'm home!

Jane: Did you have a good day at work, dear?

George: Absolute chaos! I had to push the button... Twice! Mr. Slate was absolutely livid the entire day.

Jane: Oh my gosh! You must be exhausted, dear. Wh-why don't you go take a nice, hot shower and relax...and I'll go see when dinner is going to be ready.

George: Sheeew! Now that you mention it, yeah, a hot shower sounds great right about now. Wanna jump in there with me? You know, before the kids get home.

Jane wrinkles her nose at the thought of actually having sex with her husband.

Jane: Oh, not today, George. I've got a splitting headache. Oooo! Maybe you can try out that new Massage-o-Matic the kids got you for your birthday?

George: Ah, now there's an idea.

Jane sighs in relief, rolling her eyes, as she listens to George whir past the living room and down the hall. No sooner has she heard the bathroom door swish open, she bolts from the couch, making a beeline straight to the bedroom. She can already hear the shower running as she strips off her gown, flinging it aside as she steps up to the automatic wardrobe.

With a push of a button and a flurry of robotic hands, she's dressed in her frumpy, old purple dress. A split-second later and another slightly more dainty set of hands appear, attempting to put on her leggings. They, however, come to an abrupt stop...a grinding noise coming from somewhere deep inside the machine. Jane should be mad, now having to put on the garment by hand, like some twentieth-century cavewoman. Instead, a little mischievous smirk escapes her. Looks like she's going to have to call the repairman tomorrow...the one she affectionately refers to as 'The Tongue'.

Legging wrestled into, Jane rides the conveyor down the hall towards the kitchen, stopping at the bathroom to chat with her husband some more. Steam pouring out of the scalding hot shower, she listens as George hums the main theme song to 'Oklahoma', the auto-shower scrubbing his derriere with a loofah. There was a time when she'd happily jump into the shower, turn off the machine, and scrub his once-toned and sculpted body for him...but those days are long gone.

Jane: Oh, the plumber came by and gave us an estimate for that leaky pipe in the kitchen today?

George: Uh-huh. How much is that gonna cost us?

Jane: Ohhh, next to nothing. I might've flirted with him a little.

A flash from earlier that day appears in her head, bent over the back of the couch, moaning in ecstasy as the plumber plunged his enormous shaft into her again and again.

George: (rolls his eyes) My wife...

Jane: He said he's gonna have to bring a couple of assistants with him tomorrow. Something about reaming and sweating pipes so they can install a new tailpiece.

George: That sounds... Involving.

Jane steps back onto the transportation belt, envisioning herself naked and at the mercy of three or more burly, well-endowed pipe-fitters.

Jane: (smiling, under her breath) I certainly hope so.

Original Art by Alex Hiro
Colors and Edits by Phillipthe2