" John. Did she just say John, that's my name not her husbands name but mine, then came " I wanted this for so long, fill me John FILL ME." As I watch... her coming as she called my name. I thought I got to get out of here, and as I turned Arlene screamed "Oh fuck John your home." I turned back as Arlene slid her rubber friend out with a very wet sound, then slowly reached over for the t-shirt she was wearing this morning. She stopped and said " John should I put this on, or should I do what Faye. ”We're not going to a fucking church picnic!” she yelled and dragged me into the bedroom, ripped off my outfit.She started looking through her clothes and soon had me in a skimpy lacy black bra, a jacket that barely even covered more than my shoulders, a skin-tight mini-skirt that didn't even reach the bottom of my ass, fuck-me heels and no panties!Soon we were in a taxi cab and on our way to my surprise. The taxi driver could barely keep his eyes on the road seeing these two hot sluts on his. The letter inside was typed on expensive heavy-weight paper that had the company watermark in the center of the page. The letter explained that the law firm had been retained by a small, independent museum to find and return the accompanying diary to the nearest living heir of the doner. According to the note, the museum found the contents of the journal inappropriate for either display or academic study.The letter ended with a brief but firm postscript that the museum in question wanted to. ‘I’ve seen them before,’ said Ann with exaggerated patience. ‘It’s him and his other woman.’ ‘At the hotel. Yes, I know. Look at the date and time. And this one in the restaurant, five minutes later. This is the day he disappeared.’ ‘Yes, Yes,’ Ann was getting testy. ‘And that one is them kissing in the foyer and that one is them buying their tickets. So what?’ ‘Before I show you the next one, look at these two again. See that man? Do you know him?’ ‘He looks familiar.’ ‘Yes. Now this one, note.