Some light bondage in this chapter, not that it should surprise you if you read the earlier chapters.

Saturday

Fritz dropped Rachel off at her home in the morning, while Brenda drove Marcus to a classmate's birthday party. Rachel had no idea if Fritz knew anything or suspected anything or what to say. "Hey Fritz. Your wife gave me a mind-numbing orgasm last night. Hope you're not mad." She pretended to be asleep in the car. When they got to the apartment, she thanked him and headed inside.

Fritz turned around and went home. Damn, he was jealous of Brenda right now. Rachel was a babe, the talk of the FBI. There were dozens of guys who would cut off their own foot to spend a night with her, but she ends up fooling around with his wife.

When he got home, he started on his chores: cleaning his car, mowing the lawn, etc.

Brenda got home and was ready for some iced tea. She made a pitcher and brought some out for her husband. He decided it was time for a break and followed Brenda in the house.

Fritz sat down with his glass and noticed Brenda had a smug look on her face. "What is it?"

"Oh nothing," she said. The way she said it, Fritz knew it was something.

"What?"

"I was just reminiscing, last night." She grinned. It was wrong of her to tease her husband, but it was fun.

"Don't remind me."

"Don't be jealous. I was going to invite her back here. If you're a good boy, you can join in on the fun."

"You wanted to invite her over again. What about Marcus?"

"Well, he's spending New Years with his grandparents in Chicago, so I thought Rachel might want to stay over for a night." Or two, or ….

Fritz's eyes lit up. He could only imagine having Rachel naked and in their bed. FBI frowned on intra-office canoodling as it were, but Rachel was an IC. Technically, she didn't work for the FBI. What the bureau didn't know wouldn't hurt it. "If I'm good." What did Brenda know about being good?

Brenda nodded and kissed his lips.

"But what if I'd rather be naughty?" He grabbed her ass and pulled her towards him.

"When are you not?"

He picked her up and carried her upstairs. It was definitely time to be naughty. Brenda liked it when Fritz had a twinkle in his eye. She knew she was in for a good time. When they got to bed, they started shedding each other's clothes. Brenda rolled on top of her husband, giving him a big kiss. He flipped her on to her back.

"You've been a very bad girl," he chided. He took the handcuffs out the draw and cuffed her hands to the headboard. "Now it's time for you to be punished."

Fritz spoke with a harsh, husky voice. Brenda's hips quivered in anticipation, and she started to get wet. Brenda was on her knees, her head facing the headboard, her perky behind sticking out.

Fritz put a blindfold on his lover. He wasn't sure where this was going yet, so he wanted to buy a little time. Also, Brenda was impatient as hell.

He dug through their toys in the back of the closet, trying to figure out which ones to bring into play. He smiled when he saw exactly what he wanted. He returned to the bedroom, quietly, so Brenda wouldn't hear him. He quickly put her nipple clamps on her, causing her head to jerk forward and a soft gasp to escape her lips. She hadn't realized he was behind her until that very moment.

He traced his fingers along her sensitive folds, gauging her wetness. She cried out in pleasure. The next thing she felt was the sharp sting of his hand moving across her behind. He went back and forth, alternating cheeks as he punished her for her indiscretion. She moaned and groaned, not so secretly loving every second of it. She got wetter with every strike; she was glistening now, her body overtaken by lust, a little anxiousness, and the pleasurable stinging that her nipples and behind both felt.

Fritz had a smirk on his face, not that she could see it. When he felt Brenda had enough, he took a cooling gel and rubbed it down Brenda's body, starting with her shoulders.

"OOOH" Brenda cried out, that felt really good. He made his way down her body and started to rub her tender cheeks, causing her to whimper. He took his time, eliciting every groan and grunt he could from her. She instinctively spread her legs for him. Her outer lips were swollen. She was ready to be fucked. He moved his hands up her stomach, feeling her abs as the jutted against his hands. He made his way up to her breasts and pulled the clamps off her engorged nipples. He gently massaged her around the breast, taking his time before he put the cooling gel on her breasts. "OH GOD!"

"You like that, don't you, Slut?"

"Yes," she whimpered as she started to wriggle under his touch.

"You want to cum, don't you."

All she could do was whimper.

"Wait," he told her. His teeth dug into her neck as he pushed his way into her sopping cunt. He started slowly, his hands still kneading her breasts as his mouth moved across the back of her neck. His thrusts began to get faster and faster as Brenda's groans spurred him on. He loved fucking her: the way she'd moan and cry for more, the way her hips would push back against him, defiantly, demanding him go faster, the way her tight, wet, pussy would make a vice grip for his cock. He could feel her getting hotter and wetter, knowing she was about to burst. Brenda did her best to hold back, but her self-control was fading fast.

"Cum for me," he commanded.

Brenda bucked her hips against him, her tantalizing behind moving back and forth. Soon, she erupted, gushing all over the sheets. "AWWW FUCK!" she cried out as she came.

Fritz uncuffed her and pulled her onto his hips. "Ride me." Brenda braced herself on her hands and began to grind against him. She moved slowly, rolling her hips back and forth. She liked being able to control the pace, and she wanted to go nice and easy, as she was still tender from her orgasm. Fritz's hands were on his wife's hips, gently guiding her as she rode him.

"FUCK," Fritz muttered loudly as Brenda began to pick up the pace. He was getting really close. His hips began to rise to meet hers. He flipped her on her back and shot his load all over her chest. When he caught his breath, he grabbed his sticky wife and pulled her into a hungry kiss.

Sunday

Sharon was getting a head start on the cleaning. It was going to be a full house. Her daughter was coming with her bf. Rusty was here. Charlie was coming. She didn't know where she would put all these people, but Bobby insisted it would be fine. "They're young." They'll sleep on whatever. Plus, we'll feed them so much, they'll fall asleep at the dinner table. Problem solved."

Sharon laughed, and she started to mop the floor. This house needed work. The floors needed to be cleaned, the tables dusted, carpets vacuumed. She also wanted to clean out the fridge and wash all of the table cloths, etc. Bobby thought this could wait until later, but Sharon figured the more cleaning she did now, the easier it would be later. She never knew when murder would strike in this town.

Monday

Of course, there was a murder. An unidentified man was found floating in the pond at a golf course. A caddy called the police, thinking it was a drunkard. The police thought that too, until they pulled him out of the water and saw the bullet hole in his forehead.

Major Crimes had one mission only; finish this case before Christmas. The bullet was with SID. The dead man's photo (photoshopped so the bullet hole wasn't visible) was in the press, seeking an ID. They ran the photo against missing persons and against the mugshot database. All of their wheels were turning, and they were going at top speed.

Morales was working on the autopsy. Rios was pacing outside, hoping the case would be over soon. She had a ticket to Spain for the holidays, and she did not want to get stuck in LA.

Flynn and Provenza canvassed the neighborhood near the course. Tao was coordinating with the FBI, who was running the vic's fingerprints, Buzz was going through the security camera of the nearby establishments, looking for anyone who was around the night before. Sykes and Sanchez were on tip duty.

Sharon was staring at the murder board, trying to figure out where else to go from here. They had a dead man, mid 40s, who had no ID or phone or keys. No one from the course recognized him. Maybe he was using the course as a clandestine place to meet someone. It was dark, away from the city lights, the golf course was closed at the time. It was hours before anyone found his remains. Maybe the killer chose the meeting place for that reason. There was nothing but hypothesizing at this point. Maybe Morales had something.

She went down to his lair to see Rios pacing.

"Tell me you have something," she said. "I'm going to Spain for Christmas. I can't get stuck her over some John Doe." Her voice was insistent and mouse-like at the same time

Sharon sighed. "Maybe I will, after Dr. Morales shares his findings." No one wanted to be here for Christmas.

As it turned out, he couldn't add much. The guy had decent teeth, so he probably wasn't homeless. He was really drunk when he died and his last meal was pizza about 3 hours before he was shot.