Yes

A short while later, you're walking with Carrie down to the resident's parking lot. You've redressed in your work clothes, determining that you probably don't need to dress up to buy new clothes. As one tends to do in parking lots, you're casually examining all of the cars in the lot and imagining what type of person owns them. For instance, you assume that the owner of the BMW is a douche bag, or that the owner of the pickup truck is a redneck. This makes you all the more surprised when Carrie stops in front of a cherry red convertible, unlocking the doors and slipping inside.

"Wait?" you ask, incredulous. "This is what you're driving?"

"Yeah, of course," Carrie replies, unconcerned. "We're starting to get to the warmer months and there's no rain in the forecast for this evening."

"No, I meant, I never really imagined you as the type to drive a convertible. Just doesn't seem like you."

"Well, it was a graduation gift from my parents. And it's completely impractical for my lifestyle."

"I can imagine," you say, nodding and getting into the car as well. "We've had a couple bad winters recently and I'm sure this car is useless for that."

"Oh no, I mean that it's impractical because with no windows, we would have no privacy for road head or fucking in the back seat. And that's an absolute deal breaker."

"Well," you retort, buckling in. "I'm glad you have your priorities in check."

"Always," Carrie says while smiling. She pauses for a moment, focused on exiting the parking garage and onto your destination, before she speaks up again. "So, what did you find out about your shitty boss, Ted?"

"Well," you ponder, trying to think of the simplest way to explain it. "I'm fairly confident that Ted, when he recently fired Karen on the down low, took the difference in her maternity leave pay and severance pay and lined his own pockets. And that is all part of the incredible pressure he is under to lower his department costs every year, in which he earns a stacking bonus."

"Hmmm.." Carry contemplates, deep in thought. "That'll be a little tricky for **** purposes, but I think we can manage."

"Why would that be tricky?" you ask, as you always enjoyed Carrie's insights into human interactions and psychology.

"Well, we don't actually have any hard proof that Ted is siphoning money from your company. And while we could potentially obtain it to effectively **** him, you would have to inform others at your company of your suspicions or get the police involved. That would certainly help your company and get rid of Ted, but we don't want that. At least until Helen is another one of your married bitches."

"Alright," you say, stifling a laugh at Carrie's magnificent ability to take any topic of conversation and relate it to having sex with you. "So what do you propose we do?"

"I think our focus should be on his yearly bonus for reducing department costs. While your company obviously just started the fiscal year, you could threaten to torpedo his chances to retain his bonus, so he'll want to bargain with you. And then we just have to hope that Ted would rather give up his wife's fidelity over his money. Based on the information our private investigator found about the lavish lifestyle they're trying to live, I'd wager that Ted cares more about the money. Anyways," Carrie says as she turns off the road into a small parking lot at what looks to be an upscale parlor. "We're here."

You exit the parked car and follow Carrie's lead into the store. As you enter, you see that the store doesn't have much size to it, but its entirety is lined with men's formalwear. After the customary ding of the bell signaling your entrance, a slight elderly man materializes from behind some coats, and gives the two of you an appraising look before his eyes shine in recognition.

"Ah, Ms. Miller. It is good to see you once again. How may I aid you this evening?"

"Hello Sebastian. It is delightful to see you as well. And if you could, I would like your help in procuring a tuxedo for my boyfriend," she says, interlocking her hand in yours and brandishing your hand. "He will be meeting my family and attending the Pensento Black-Tie Charity Gala this weekend and I would like him to look his best."

"Well, one certainly wouldn't want to meet the infamous Liz Miller without looking their best, so I'll be glad to help. Right this way, sir," he directs, ushering you to a small raised platform. You comply with his directions and soon you're standing there motionless while the serious looking man takes a tape measure and records every relevant measurement of your body.

After a period that seems longer than it actually is, you're left standing still while Sebastian circles you in study. Finally, he speaks up, saying "I think I have something that could work wonderfully for you. Classic and bold, but not too ostentatious. Would you like to try it on?"

You don't need to look to Carrie to know that a tuxedo like that would fit you the best, so you nod in approval to Sebastian, who quickly departs to find said tuxedo. When you do look back towards Carrie, she's just giving you one of her small private smiles that tend to portend excellent things later.

Sebastian returns a few moments later bearing a tuxedo, which you accept and enter a nearby stall to begin the arduous process of clothing formalwear. Entering the stall reminds you of the last time you went shopping with Carrie, when she pulled you into a stall at a lingerie specialty shop and blew you right then and there. Alas, this time you had someone waiting on you, and Sebastian wasn't a particularly exciting voyeur for you.

You rush through putting on the tux and after taking a steady breath, you exit the stall to the waiting eyes of both your loving girlfriend and the man who sells the best menswear in the city. And the delighted warm look in Carrie's eyes when she sees you is enough for you to know that you need to buy this tuxedo, no matter how much it costs you.

"So," you ask. "What do you think?"

Carrie claps in delight and moves to embrace you but Sebastian, bearing a bushel of pins, beats her to it. What follows next is ten minutes of Sebastian fussing over the precise fit of the tuxedo, and you bear through it because to be honest, you think you look damn good in the tux. Finally you are finished, and Sebastian directs you to take off your suit and leave it in the stall. You do so, and upon exiting you are greeted immediately by Carrie. She takes your hand in hers, and leads you out of the store and to her car.

You've already entered Carrie's car before you realize that you haven't paid for the tux at all. You motion for Carrie to stop, but she already knows what you're about to say, as she says, "Don't worry, I've already paid for the tuxedo."

"Oh," you grumble. "I could have paid for it."

"There's no need," she assures you. "While the clothing here is the best, there's such a markup there that it wouldn't be worth it for you to waste your money."

"Still, I don't like the idea of you being my sugar momma, paying for everything."

"Listen," Carrie says, pausing a moment to articulate herself. "Don't think of it like that. Just think of it like an asset of mine."

"An asset?"

"Yeah. Like, I have great tits, I'm a vixen in bed, and I like spending money on my man to help him in his life. Treat it no different than just being appreciative of it, and don't feel like you owe me anything."

"I suppose," you say, still not entirely sure about it. "So what about Helen?" you remark, changing gears. "You mentioned earlier that the PI found something out about her?"

"Indeed, and it's a doozy." Carrie says, smiling. "Helen Palms, her maiden name before she married Ted, is not her birth name. In fact, it's a shoddily created identity made only several years ago, when I suspect she turned 18."

"Woah. So why did she change her identity?"

"Well, further investigation revealed that her birth name is Holly Day."

"Oof," you interject. "Bet she got teased for that in grade school."

"I'm sure she did," Carrie replies while giving you a look, and in response you quickly quiet up to let her finish. "And it turns out that Holly Day is deeply in debt, with a high credit score and has taken out numerous credit cards."

"So she changed her identity to escape that debt. Just how much debt was she in?"

"It appears that she owed just over $300,000."

"Jesus. How long did it take her to accumulate all that?"

"Over a period of 8 years," Carrie replied.

"Wait. Just how old is Helen/Holly?"

"Twenty-two years of age. I assume that the debt was wracked up by one of her parents during her youth, also known as child identity theft. This made it that when she turned 18, she realized that her financial future was ruined, unless of course she wanted to file a police report and send at least one of her parents to jail."

"Damn, that's a rough hand she was dealt," you murmur, thinking about Helen's past. You always assumed that due to her beauty, Helen would have had an easy go at life, but apparently her parents were atrocious enough to mortgage their daughter's future to benefit themselves.

"So," Carrie continues. "That should be the easiest way to **** her. Threaten to reveal her past to either Ted or the authorities and she should be willing to sleep with you rather than suffer the consequences."

"Wait," you declare, pausing the conversation. "Are we really going to **** her and send her to jail if she doesn't want to sleep with us?"

"Oh of course not. But we want her to think that we will, and that's how we apply the pressure on her."

You stir quietly, unsure how to respond. Carrie's noticed the silence and her eyes tighten, but you decide to speak, saying, "I don't know. That might go a little too far. It seems a little rapey to me."

Realizing her mistake, Carrie responds, "Oh we don't even have to threaten to tell the authorities if you're uncomfortable with it. In fact, she is probably so worried with the thought of Ted discovering her past that it will be more than enough for her to want to sleep with you to keep it quiet."

You nod, as you thought that it was a little better. This way you were only threatening to ruin her marriage rather than her entire life.

Before you know it, Carrie has arrived back at the parking lot of her apartment complex, but before you get out she lightly grasps your wrist.

"So," she asks. "Who do you want to ****? Ted and his questionable practices at work? Or Helen and her tragic past?"

A/N: As a side note, this story has hit 50,000 words (or at least the word document that I write in has done so). I'd like to take this opportunity to thank all of you for your support, whether it be the comments, the likes, the bookmarks, or even just the views. Here's to (at least) another 50,000 words.