I'd better get to class. . . Oh, and one more thing. . ." He hesitates, but I already know what is coming next. "Please don't tell anyone about last n...ight, okay? It could get us all kicked off the football team."I'm right. But truth be told, I don't want them talking about it either. I'd used my switches on everyone there, and I didn't want word to get out about that either.Every class is a torment, as it hurts to just breathe, or even sit. Bending over my books and taking notes is even a. It seems that while he was not really interested in sports he had seen my wife briefly on a local news clip of one of her schools games and recognized that she was one of his students, a struggling student at that. As they talked about the class he would keep bringing up the fact that he would hate to see the university lose such an attractive member of their cheerleading squad if she couldn't somehow pull a passing grade out of his class. Liz was a little slow in understanding what the. I turned on the television, in an attempt to drown out my moans, and played with my pussy until I exploded in one satisfactory moan. Masturbating felt good, but it was no comparison to my husband’s eight-inch cock. I walked downstairs and into the kitchen. I hadn’t thought anyone was home, turning the television on had become a habit, and I was surprised to see Manik, my eighteen year old son, sitting at the kitchen table looking at a parts catalogue for vintage roadster he had been rebuilding. I hit the roof when I heard about it, asked them how did that make us any different from who we were fighting. They just told me I was being a pussy, that sometimes hard decisions had to be made. It was around then that they pushed me to hand you off, said I was getting too close to you."I shook my head. "Well, thanks for that anyhow. But my God, Richard..." Yeah. So you owed Spook a lot more than even you realized. And you got to know him better than anybody, and to you he was just your.