She was studying some novel, while scratching her slit innocently unaware of my arrival in the room. I was bewildered to see her pajamas torn from its... stitching exactly in the center of her legs; creating a four to six inches wide window and her hidden treasure was clearly visible to me while sitting on the opposite chair. Her face was hidden behind the novel and she could not observe my lustful eyes staring at her hidden assets. She was so engrossed in the novel, probably reading some. Hopefully when she recovers, she’ll be in good enough condition to accept what happened and move on.”“What do you mean?” she asked.“Some recoveries are messier than others,” I said and pulled off my shirt. I pointed to the scar on my chest. “Relatively clean recovery,” I said. Then I pointed to my abdominal wound. “Pretty messy recovery,” I compared and then moved to my shoulder. “Long, difficult recovery with a chance that it won’t be the same as it was before.” I paused and put my shirt back. She laughed softly and continued to stroke my prick. 'Are you going to fuck her ass?' 'You think she'd let me?' 'I think so,' she nodded. 'Why else tell us about, whoever it was, having it that way?' 'Betty-Lou? You may be right. How do you feel about putting on a show for us guys if we need help stiffening-up?' I grinned. 'I thought about that when she. When he and his wife moved to Virginia, a friend who was running for office was killed in a car crash. With the election only weeks away, the party asked him to fill in. He reluctantly accepted, more at first, in honor of the memory of his friend than because of any interest in politics. Ellen who had been his friend's campaign manager, stayed on and they were to become close friends. He wound up losing the election, but the political bug had bitten him. With Ellen's encouragement, he ran for.