All the jewelry and gifts, romantic dinners and overtures, all of it had counted for exactly shit. He wasn’t a drinker, hadn’t ever been drunk in ...his life, but goddamnit, he was ready to tie one on and call an end to this bullshit year. Even the solace of that self-pitying thought was interrupted, however, by the ringing of his cell. “Hey, asshole.” The words came out in a slur, and it was pretty obvious not only who the caller was, but that he was well into his own bottle. Annoyed, he snapped. The year was 1961, their fifteenth together. It had been a successful year for George's road building company. The Company debt was finally erased. The children were all doing well. They were easing out of their struggling years. It was a time when things were good."I want to give you your present now," George whispered."Oh, George, you didn't have to get me a present," she protested. It was easy for her to say that. She knew that George would never be empty-handed on Christmas.George ignored. .. after our grueling day on the road spending lots and lots of money, Erika suggested that we relax Japanese style once we got home. Let me tell you ... it took her awhile to convince me, but eventually her words ... and this here bottle of wine ... were all I needed. So here we are!” she said slurring her words a bit and raising her arms up to expose more of her full bosom to the Texas air. “And let me tell you, gentlemen ... It ... feels ... fabulous!”“It certainly looks fabulous from this. Fuck!!! Now what?? Is she not enjoying it? She has control!! I can hear something going on behind me but I can not see!! Then I hear those words “this is a little bigger and may hurt a bit” there is a small pause and I feel it against me, you say “in fact this is quite a bit bigger and may hurt a lot” and push it hard inside me FUCK now that does hurt, but only for a second or two then, WOW, pleasure, fucking out of this world pleasure I am yours and you know it, your breathing as hard as I am.