I had barely begun to grieve, over the death of my mentor, Sam Stevenson, when I discovered that his daughter, my wife Charlotte, was cheating on me a...d had gone crazy. A lot of people probably wonder why I'd married Charlotte in the first place. Our personalities didn't seem to mesh. All I can say is that love is strange and opposites attract. There was also the fact that the sex was good. Anyway eventually I found out about her and was devastated. I wanted her out of my life for good. But it. Be afraid, be so very afraid, shades of Dexter, as if I’m Edgar Allan Poe reincarnated, I await to hear a rap, rap, rap on my chamber door. ‘Perhaps, I should stop writing erotica. Let me think about that for a second. Nah! If they can’t take a joke, fuck ’em.’ Has nothing changed in 300 hundred years? Can you imagine a man threatening me, a poor, defenseless, albeit beautiful, busty, and modest woman with physical harm or with death for writing a dirty story? Kettle black, he’s judging me for. The Pixie slipped out when no one noticed. Nobody seemed to be looking for her.While I am no longer a suspect in their investigation, the AIC did get my taxes from the IRS and reviewed what that senior Treasury agent told him. He still wanted to have me come in for questioning. A call from someone higher up the food chain and a senator ended that questioning before it ever started.I asked the FBI AIC to speak with me in one of the offices.“I’m sorry you were the one with the target on your back. It took a few minutes till she came for her second time, but she loved it as much as the first, and I loved cumming into her as much as the first time too.She subsided onto me again, twitching happily. She was warm, fragrant, and infinitely sexual. I stroked her.“You’re not from round here are you?” she murmured. “Where are you from?”I told her how I’d just moved to the town, leaving my girlfriend pursuing her career near London; how I was sharing a rented house; and generally those little.