All it was supposed to be was me sounding him out and deciding whether or not he could be discrete. Curse the bad luck that I was seen holding hands w...ith him although I sincerely doubt that I was looking at him 'dreamy eyed.' Not touching up my lipstick was a major mistake, but I only kissed Sean once when he walked me to my car so I didn't expect that my make up would be all that smudged. But it was a hell of a kiss and it had me up on the toes of my high heels. I was probably going to have to. Betty Mae is with her husband.”“You OK?”“Yes. When Rory stopped the wagon, I fell and got a bit of a bump on the head, but I’m fine.”“How long have I been out?”“About a half an hour. I got up out of the wagon to see you run to Rory and after a few seconds you keeled over. I was afraid that you’d been shot too. But when I got to you, I checked you and couldn’t find any wounds. I dragged you over here into the shade, set Pauli on your chest and took care of Betty Mae.”“I need to sit up,” I said. But how to get proof?Proof of what?Finding them in bed together would be proof of her cheating, of course. But would not finding her in bed with him be proof of her innocence? Did I have to watch her 24/7 to be sure? And would that tell me anything about the past?I did not want proof of her guilt. I wanted proof of her innocence. Call it denial, I call it love. You might even call it stupidity or blindness.I'd still call it love.I considered hiring a detective. It made me shudder with. Sandra looked over each of the men carefully, but she looked mostly down upon them, down upon the one object she was interested in the most. She stayed concentrated on each of their pricks for an obscenely long time - not just looking, but staring! I wondered what kind of erotic image flowed through her mind. Was she trying to picture how big each of them would get? Was she fantasizing about what she wanted to do with us? Or even worse, perhaps she imagined each of us back in her own dungeon,.