She wondered if her one and only love, who she married at eighteen could possibly be a mystery writer who was loosely disguising the details whilst re...ating her life story to unknown numbers of strangers via an adult story site.She decided to play along writing feed back tot his author and hoping for a reply from the author which would give her an email address, as she knew her husband's limited computer knowledge would never allow him the skill to register a secondary email address and shadow. " Came more from her nose than from her mouth. It almost seemed to come from deep within her chest as her right hand began to move slowly; almost imperceptibly. Her fingernails were a bit too long to stick her fingers inside her. She used the knuckle of her thumb against the top of her slit; against that rigid little bud of tissue; the little sleeping penis guarding the entrance to her treasure.It was a sigh. It was a reluctant sign of being forced to perform for her husband and the stranger;. “What do we know about the final stroke, Emma?” “It’s always the hardest, Sir.” I raised the dragon until it was behind my head, and then leading with my elbow I flicked my wrist over and whipped the stroke precisely into the gap I had been aiming for. “Aaaahhh, Aaagghhh. Oh my God, mmmmmhhhhhh! Ooohhhh. Twelve, thank you, Sir. Oh, Sir, that was fantastic!” she gasped. “I’ve got a throbbing, burning bottom on the outside, so sore yet so wonderful, and the pain has seeped inside, turning into. I picked it up and saw a hotel room key envelope underneath it with the numbers 407 written on it and a lipstick print underneath. I waved the waiter over, paid the bill and turned to go. As I did the gentleman at the next table whispered “Good Luck” and his wife winked at me. I flushed a little and nodded and headed for the elevator. I got to her room and tapped on the door. It opened almost immediately; Janet was standing there in a long negligee, her hair down from the pony-tail and a drink.