Jenkins?”I gasped, “Yes Sir, I feel it, I really do, and I’ve learnt my lesson. Please - I need to cum!”“Tell me what you want me to do, Sus...an,” Mr. Buchanan whispered in my ear. “Tell me exactly what you want!”“I want your dick in my pussy,” I whispered back.“You can do better than that, Susan. Tell me out loud, graphically and with feeling – like you have to have me.”“FUCK ME MR. BUCHANAN. FUCK MY CUNT AND MAKE ME CUM!” I yelled.With that, he put the cane down pushed me over onto the. ” He motioned toward the tracking gizmo. “Why the hell didn’t you use a GPS tracker?”“My cell phone wouldn’t support any of the models the guy was selling,” I groused. “He had this one in some box in the back. Let me have it for thirty bucks. But I had to leave it plugged in the whole time. That’s why my phone died; I couldn’t charge it while I was using the tracker. The security shop was right across the street from where your ... uh ... perp stopped for dinner. The parking lot was pretty. Clint loved me with all of his heart. A divorce would only hurt him. And it would hurt me. At thirty five, I was no longer a spring chicken. I had seen how badly most of the women I knew fared during a divorce.Most of them ended up losing in more ways than one. They ended up being some guy's booty call and losing most of their dignity. They also went from having control of 100% of a man's income, to having control of maybe 40% if they were lucky. And most of them ended up losing their homes and. I blushed, my face turning bright crimson and beads of sweat breaking outon my brows.?I err, I err, I...? stammered, completely forgetting the ludicrous storyI had prepared for this exact contingency.The matronly lady reached out and put a calming hand on my wrist.?Not for the wife then I take it?? she winked.?Well, err, no,? I blurted out.?Come with me please sir,? she indicated an aisle with an outstretchedpalm.Stupid me began to think of all sorts of ridiculous scenarios. I wasgoing to be.