What happened to Doc Breedlove? 7-9, Fawn Rogers cut in on you

Custom Move on Cool, what happened? 8+1 = 9. You can find out, but you may not be able to salvage your plan.

Working a hunch, you head back to where Dr. Breedlove gave you a go-ahead for work and for doing your wife Mary in doggie again with your full weight on your knees.

You have a suspicion that, as the song goes, Diddy Breedlove "can't hide her lyin' eyes".

The reception desk for the unit is closed, and there is a "Will Return" sign up with a time tomorrow, but the occupational therapy room where you and Mary got coached on alternative intercourse positions is down the hall and nobody's there to stop you and Biggest Coffee Three Sugars.

You drain the rest of your own coffee, drop it in the can, and head on back with Dr. B's coffee order.

"Oh Fawnie, oh, oh, eee!" you hear Doc's voice rising toward a squeak.

"Is that doing it for you, you little cheater?" Dr. Fawn Rogers tells her wife.

"I'm sorry Fawnie, you've been so busy and I was just getting so... eee!"

"Mama warned me that you were gonna step out on me if I ever turned my back on you," Fawn says.

"Only men!" Diddy protests. "Only sex! You're my only love, Fawnie, my only... eee, eee, eee, I'm, eeeeee!"

Well, that answers the question. Your hunch was right.

You knock sharply on the door and step in, saying "Doctor Breedlove, got your coffee here."

Roll +Cool at a -1 (two girls; +0 total) to barge in on Diddy and Fawnie and not get kicked right out: 6, Miss.

Fawn Rogers sits in a chair by one of the firmly built tables used for occupational therapy on alternate sexual positions. Bent over the table, face down and big, creamy pink butt up, is Didyma Breedlove.

Fawn Rogers is tickling Diddy's butthole in quick little strokes with a lubed, gloved finger. Diddy shivers and squeaks. Her face and ears are flushed bright pink.

Dr. Rogers' broad brown face has a stern expression on it.

"Mr. Forbes, I'll thank you to not encourage my wife's worst habits," she tells you. "Diddy, show Mr. Forbes that Fawnie is giving Diddy everything she needs."

"Fawnie, please, please, please," Didyma begs her wife.

"Fine," Fawn Rogers says. "Leave the coffee and go, Mr. Forbes, while I indulge this spoiled child I married."

You set Biggest Coffee with Three Sugars down by Dr. Rogers' elbow. Dr. Diddy's spread butt cheeks are tempting in look and intoxicating in scent, but you know better. You nod to Dr. Rogers and turn to go.

You put your hand on the door and look back to see Fawnie giving Diddy what she had been begging for, a fierce tongue lashing straight on her butthole with a finger and thumb working her clit. Diddy lifts straight off into orgasm. She stifles her squeaks with her wrist, her head jerking with the spasms of climax.

You tiptoe out, lingering for long minutes to hear Didyma break down in ****, racking sobs, Fawn comforting her wife with low coos, then kisses and laughter that could almost be crying.

"I love you Fawnie. I've never loved anyone so much."

"I love you Diddy, my bad little girl. You broke my heart open for you."

Time to go. You adjust your trousers and head out.