It was a self-portrait of Wendy. She had a relaxed, happy look on her face. Her hand was next to her throat. There was an old-fashion straight-edge ra...zor in her hand, the blade just beginning to cut into the side of her neck. Suzanne sat staring at the picture, realizing how wrong she had been about Wendy being less miserable. ‘I found some others like this, if you want to see them.’ Amy handed Suzanne the other pictures. There were six altogether, all showing Wendy’s face relieved and happy as. I had tried to talk her into it but she was adamant. The more I read sex stories, the more determined I became. I began posting my stories online too to make up for my fantasies.Then I got a mail from Babu.He appreciated my stories. I send him a mail with one line –"Are you interested in fucking my wife?"From there we developed a new unheard relation. At first he thought I was joking, then when he agreed I was reluctant – could I trust a stranger? But the lust was above all and I decided to. Because of the preserve, they had ultimate privacy. Not a person, not a house, nothing but trees and the lake could be seen from their terrace.Their first night in their new house, Bob had brought takeout home. You guessed it, from McDonald's. Mandy had laughed as she saw the take out bag and squealed in delight. After a dash to hug and kiss her husband, they went to the "Terrace In The Sky" as they called it and sat, chatting about the day.Mandy always ate faster and with great enthusiasm. She. He refused to shake my hand and gave me a menacing look. I figured, what the fuck, be an ass. I turned around and headed back to the batter’s box. Everyone else saw it was okay and started back to where they belonged. I stopped, turned, and looked the pitcher in the eyes.“One more thing,” I said, which froze everyone. “You hit me with a pitch, and I’ll tear your arm off and beat you with it.”Moose grabbed me, and their pitcher had to be restrained by their coach. Coach Haskins had the dugout.