I chastised myself. I was glad to be back. I was glad to have helped Jerry and was quite pleased with the payment swelling my bank account. But it had...been an agonising, soul-searching week away.I felt bipolar, my mood swinging from pure unadulterated pleasure at the sexual side of Cassie's and my relationship, to deep depression and even shame for succumbing to her and betraying her mother, Mary, a wonderful woman I'd known for fifteen years.Work had helped take my mind off the problem, but it. You're fucked. You look around for a mask, since a petticoat-corset-tophat-monocle combo isn't gonna work with your jeans.You see the cashier eyeing you eyeing all the junk hanging up in The Closet. You see your unadorned, regular self in the dozens of tarnished old mirrors behind her. She leans over the counter hard, squinting at you.You squint back.She beckons you with a curling finger, so you approach the counter. As you do, she pulls out a mirror from below, still leaning intensely over the. Anyways, I'm not sure what it is bothering me. I don't have a boyfriend, so you don't have to listen to me complain about how tired I am of 'him' since 'he' doesn't exist."I just needed to be near someone I could trust. Someone I could confide in. Someone like you." Hey, that's what I'm here for. Your personal Sir Lancelot at your service, milady. Always happy to be here for you. But you know that. We've been friends for," he paused for a moment then continued, "two years, eight months, and. Still, regardless of her arousal, she lay motionless, eyes closed, stroking my lower back. I could only imagine what’s she’s thinking about. I looked down at each pump and watched with great arousal as her tits giggled slightly as they hung to the side. That image quickly disappeared, or was interrupted, by the sound of the ringing phone at 7:30AM in the morning no less. “Can you see who that is, I don’t want it to be work or anything,” She asked. I climbed off my wife and reached for the.
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