“You have a new friend?”She grinned at me and nodded. “I have a bunch of friends now.”“Wow.” I said.“Yeah, wow,” she said with her eye... wide to show how surprising that was.I looked out at Mischa again.“Is she...” I had to stop and break up the word, “an – or – ex – ic?”Older Bec looked over at the door and nodded. “Kind of.”“We should help her,” I said.She nodded. “We are. We are helping her.”I gave her a pleased smile. “Good.”I looked out through the hole in the door again.“Where are we?” I. ..” She traced a hand down his arm and took his hand...paw...in hers and pressed it against her left breast. The soft pressure against his palm sent another wave of tingling sensation up his arm and down his spine. Without thinking he squeezed gently and felt the firmness of her nipple pressing through the bandages covering her chest. “... now take my clothes off. And. Fuck. Me.”She wasn’t speaking to him anymore... she was talking directly to the hungry beast in the back of his brain. The. I had to know. Was I a slut? Am I a slut. To be used by men for their enjoyment. I had to laugh, for I suddenly realized that this latter part was my marriage: Being used by hubby. The selfish bastard.KMart was coming back into view. Driving more carefully, more attentively, I switched lanes. The centre. The right. The turn lane.Fear gripped me.A quick glance over my left shoulder, a mighty jerk on the steering wheel, and I was propelling the car recklessly back into the line of traffic. I. Being a born optimist the first thing I do before going into the steam room is to break open a sachet of gel and give my hole a good lubricating. There is always a heap left over and I just sit in the steam room and after a very short time and when perspiration takes over I rub it all over my body.This time I went into the steam room and there were two guys there so I sat down; there never seems to be much chat in these places. After a couple of minutes one guy left the room so I stood up and.
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