Then I shut off the car and got out. I strapped on my fanny pack which held my camera, field glasses, flash light and three bottles of water and heade... back out to Grayson Road.As I came out of the woods I was careful to make sure there were no cars coming and then I jogged down to the rail bed and turned north. I was pleasantly surprised that the path wasn't more overgrown than it was. Being daylight helped but the weeds weren't difficult to walk through and there weren't that many trees on. My husband Rock likes to describe his role in our lives like this: Imagine a zealous and perpetually horny but clueless and incompetent pimp who falls in love with his one and only whore. He wants her always in whore mode and whores her out, but almost always forgets to charge for her services. He enjoys getting her properly used - fucked always and often, sometimes hard and roughly.What is my life like, day-to-day? Imagine me as a somewhat classy call girl. Graduate educated, living in upper. I was tired and so I dint bother getting up.We dint talk beyond that, that day. But following days were just awesome, whenever we cross each other; there was this spark between us. While all my buddies referred to her as sister, I was just standing there referring her name whenever we spoke. At times, she used to give me this strange look or should I call it curious? Then, the big events day came up, while I was talking to other girls who were performing, P wasn’t really very happy and came. In the morning,before leaving for work, as usual i ask Andrea what she is up to and she talks about meeting with others young mums,till 1 pm,then back home.She is part of a circle of about a dozen women with her same origin and relative family,Andrea see her girlfriends at least 4 times a week and is very fond of them.At 10,30 am my mobile rings and i see my toddler a sleep in his bedroom,i switch channel and see Andrea talking to Paul,the husband of her best friend,i know him well and tough i.