Joel never responded. Not that day or that next, or the day after. Leila didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to tell anyone, not even her clo...est friends. She didn’t want to tell Ace. She was too ashamed and too forlorn. Two days after her husband left her, Ace called her. She was at work and unable to concentrate, barely getting anything done. She didn’t want to talk to him, she blamed him for ruining her life. She thought she had it all under control, but Ace, that bastard, had excited. “Uh, oh gee I feel so needing and at last I will feel aman’s thing splash its cream inside me and not on mypanties. Do I want more than…?” and knew this timewhen she had a wet crotch, it wouldn’t be from a male’sstuff soaking through her panty material, this would bethe fist ever such liquid to be so honored to coat herouter and inner sex.Suddenly Brian moved his hand and pulled Gretchen’shand from holding his manhood and fully chargingerection he was. Show them. Why are the decisions always on me? Why do they all fuck with me? They can’t fuck with me. Any of them.Panting, not at what I'm doing, yet, but at the shadows and echos of the outside world and your 'real life', in your head. The moronic letch who makes obvious comments about your private life. The treacherous 'married' who, adored by most, sidles up to you and would 'accidentally' brush his grey-slacked penis against your arse in the coffee queue, if only his gut didn't obscure. I need you, and I reach up to you and press myself on top of you and again our mouths find each other. You reach down to grab my cock to guide it towards your pussy. You open your legs and put my cock to the entrance to your cunt, and I keep it there, allowing the head to feel your wetness and the hot cave wanting it to enter. I grab your hands and put them above your head so that both your hands are together, as if in handcuffs, and with my own hands pressing down on your wrists to pin them to.