. no. No comma.)Everybody started laughing spontaneously.Except me. I had fucked up again. This 'returning' is dangerous. Suddenly, my stomach tied it...self in knots ... I felt ... loose ... my asshole clenched. I slipped the guitar in its plush case and stood ... one might say I waddled down the hall and to the bathroom ... Waddled is too slow but my guts wouldn't have withstood a run ... or even a 'trot.'To myself ... but aloud ... I mumbled, "Don't fart ... don't fart."The light was out .... I don't like the feeling of her infidelity but the subject matter is extremely hot. And she knows there's 2 parts to it (her cheating with another guy and the sexual fantasy/power/excitement) we both get. I really didn't like her doing it without letting me know that last time. But she's always told me about her escapades... It's tough having the mixed emotions. I don't know if I'd call it cuckolding, sharing or what. It is what it is. She loves me being in control and really loves me telling. ’ ‘Well, have a good trip.’ ‘Thanks. Enjoy your day at the beach.’ Benjamin took the 32 bus from Queens to Times Square where he could catch the subway up to Harlem. Looking out the bus window, he considered how the neighborhood had changed. It used to be a Mecca for the porn industry. He remembered when sex shops had dotted every block. Now, those shops were few and far between. New zoning ordinances had played a big part in that change. Benjamin didn’t realize back then that the. “God, you usually play with them, but you are seriously getting me worked up with that.”I could not believe what she did next. She fumbled around with something, having let go of me. She half crouched and spun. I felt one of her legs brush my nose as it passed over my face. I felt some sort of fabric settle across my face as more weight settled onto the bench. I reached up and almost jumped as I realized she was kneeling over me, her shirt still half held up. I slid my hands down her sides.