Anyway, I enjoyed cooking three or four times a week, so it wasn'texactly onerous.This was our life for three years, until my wife decided to join a'w...omen's group', rather a mystery to me as she was quite vague as towhat they actually did."Well, we talk about men mostly," was all she told me with a smile, asshe went off to one of their morning meetings. Whatever they did, itwas quite convenient as that was when I worked in my office."Would you help me to become more confident?" she asked me a. I couldn't help but feel like I was missing something so I went back to my room.I knew what I wanted to pick up, the Touch card. For some reason it just felt like it would help me get through the day, like knowing that someone had answers would make me feel more at ease. I grabbed it and looked at it for a moment, like I was drawn to it. The small slit in the left side allowed for it to be attached to one of those clips and worn around your neck, like a backstage pass. I luckily had a few of. .. you're not going to try anything are you?"Susan's hips were now moving with a life of their own. With each squeeze of her thighs, Susan's breath exploded from her in a grunting sigh. The pressure on her breasts was almost unbearable. Not waiting for an answer to her question she pulled the man's face to hers and she initiated another kiss. As she felt his tongue enter her mouth, she felt her hips drive upward.The excited girl could feel her swollen labia moving, squeezing her clitoris and. And that makes you off limits.”She slumped against me and I put my arm back around her and held her while she cried. I knew exactly where this was leading, and I wanted to cry. I wanted to run away and hide so I didn’t have to hear what she was eventually going to say once she worked up the courage to say it out loud. I wasn’t going to freak out, or run, or even cry. That wasn’t going to happen. That was the old me. The new me wasn’t going to react that way. Well, except for crying; I was going.