I turned to Christine and said, "Good morning... lover."She gave me an expectant look, so I kissed her forehead as well."I thought she was your slut n...w," my wife teased."With your permission, I think she is both," I decided. Then I frowned. "How do you already know about that?"With a pleased smile, my wife said, "Promise you won't get mad, but I have two things that I need to confess." Only two?" I teased.She gave me one of my own shrugs as an answer. Then she gave Christine a conspiratorial. 18 and looking to graduate with an Mrs. degree.Like I said, a horse eats ... a barn horse is a liability. When she was growing up, she fixed the old Ford 8N, a chore that took the whole of one winter. She rebuilt the sickle bar mower, rolling rake, and wire bailer and cut, raked and bailed hay on some mighty steep and dangerous slopes, land her dad refused to graze his money crop on. Black Angus paid well, but they had to get to auction and they wouldn't grazing those slopes.When she got. She always got her story. When it came to balancing her cunt’s need against her need to get the story, Jane Bederson had her priorities right. Why else had the good lord invented the vibrator? This article wasn’t even her own idea. Commander had suggested the article to her. Commander was her boss at the magazine. She wasn’t only the Editor-In-Chief of the magazine, she was the CEO of the conglomerate that owned the magazine. Commander’s word was law at the magazine. And her word to Jane had. "Erik, we need to get out of bed. Something is wrong and we need to go find out what it is. I feel it. It is something important." She nudged his shoulder with her own. "Come, Erik. We need to get up ... now."The man sighed deeply and ran his hand through his hair. He looked deeply into her eyes and saw the apprehension, which dwelt just beneath the surface. He drew back from her and allowed his eyes to run appraisingly over her naked form. After the months he spent training her body, he knew.