I had never seen her do this scene before because I was always backstage until the argument was over.The two of them got to the most heated point of t...eir argument. I had heard them act it out so many times that I knew their lines, their heated words, by heart. I watched as Jill reached the part where she always sounded like she was crying. There, reflected in the glass, I could see that there were actually tears running out of her eyes. She wasn't acting, she wasn't disguising her voice. She. Holding it out in front of her face, she leaned it across the desk towards me, the fork extended directly in front of her. I could smell her perfume and freshly washed hair, even over the spices of the lasagna, as I dutifully opened my mouth for her as she slid the fork in. The feeling of the steel of the fork and the bursting flavor from the pasta, coming from Monica's hand, was strangely arousing. I had never been one of those people who saw the erotic qualities of food, but as I chewed the. Sitting in front of the mirror and brushing her hair, watching it glide through the brush made her daydream again about his spanking her and her liking it. He wasn't rough and cruel but there was just enough pain in it to bring her pleasure. He seemed to know exactly what she wanted. This is all she thought about lately, the two of them together and it didn't matter who was married and who wasn't. She still wanted the dreams to continue and so they did.This time she was dreaming that they had. Mum was content to let Sarah ask all the embarrassing questions that she, too, was tickled to hear the answers to.Tiff smiled like a crocodile, “Quick. But we’re working on his stamina.”Mum and Sarah split their sides.“You know, it wouldn’t be so funny if it were daughters we were discussing,” Tiff reflected, suddenly firm. Mum and Sarah stiffened, realisation hitting them.“Yes, hmm, do your parents know?” mum deflected artfully. That stopped Tiff dead. She’d walked into that one. “Only Sam.
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