“Fine. I got a ton of shit out in the car…can you help me bring it in?”“Sure. Why don’t you go say hi to Carolyn in the kitchen and I’ll g...et your stuff. She’s been dying to see you,” I replied. “Okay,” she said as she trotted off to the kitchen.My brain was having issues. It didn’t want to work. I couldn’t process anything. The last time I had seen Cassie, she was maybe a size four, at best. She had always been a beanpole. I just assumed she had a great metabolism and would probably always be a. The relief allows him to get down to the serious fucking. He can hammer away at me for a good half hour while I go through I don't know how many orgasms before he blasts a second load of jism into me. The third time is even better! After a few fucks like that, Mom, and I'm really out of it. When he finishes with me, he tells me to stay in bed with little butt propped up with a pillow so more of the sperm will stay inside "where it will do the most good." I often fall asleep like that, fucked. . she might be going to a meeting there.” It was a very weak idea and deliberately so. “She did say she was seeing a new client didn’t she?”Johnny grunted.“Call the hotel and ask,” I insisted. “It’s probably just a misunderstanding. She’s your wife; you can’t go on thinking these things about her! ”“I suppose you’re right,” he grudgingly admitted. “Maybe it’s the jet-lag. Maybe I’m being over-sensitive.”“Call them,” I said in as reassuring a voice as I could manage. “I will if you don’t want. No wonder, she thought, Howard would have lots else on his mind, namely Sherry Miller, who worked at the supermarket and who, until hours ago, Gwen had considered a friend.Another sip and the tears began again. She wasn’t sure if the doorbell was a welcome diversion or the bringer of yet more bad news.When she opened the door, however, her face showed the closest thing to a smile since she and Howard had talked earlier today.“David! Oh honey...”She fell into the arms of her son.“It’s going to.