Those magazines caused major changes in Mandy. She took out a subscription to Penthouse Letters and every month when it would show up she would read i... from cover to cover and then try to fuck me to death. Don't get me wrong, we had a very active sex life before the magazine arrived, but after she'd read it she would want to get laid four and five times in a day. Even though I was young and in my prime I began to wonder if Mandy wasn't going to fuck me into an early grave.The other magazine. On the night she disappeared, he took Tracy out on the town, brought her back to her flat, fucked her brains out, and then gave her some sort of date-rape drug, I’m guessing. When Tracy lapsed into a stupor, he called your team of heavies who completed her abduction, loaded her into a railroad container, and shipped her off to Moscow (which Tracy pronounces Mas cow), so let’s not beat about the bush here, shall we? I’m not sure I can exactly imagine Tracy ‘offering her expertise and experience’. He handed it to Speedo and thanked us both. Speedo and I shrugged; it was a slow night anyway and we didn't have girlfriends at the time nor did we really expect any action on that front.We piled into Speedo's car and off we went. We chose a movie, bought popcorn and drinks and headed into the theater. It was stadium seating and Kristy wanted to sit in the back row. The row was empty as was most of the theater and we trudged up the steps. We sat in the middle: Kristy, Speedo between us and then. At times I felt that she was in the same place but knew more about it than I did. Whenever I'd ask her about our remarkable connection, she simply said that it was a divine gift, and we were more than fortunate to have found each other. Even with our need to be with each other, she would never let me leave my child for her. So we continued to steal these sacred moments whenever we could. Entwined vinelike, our mouths were one and never separated. It wasn't crazed, but more like feeding.