All the while his tongue's toying with mine, one hand tugging at my hair, the other pulling up the hem of my dress. His fingers draw different pattern... and swirls on my thighs. I pull off his shirt with fervent desire. He smiles at how desperate I can get. He lifts my dress up over my head and the sudden contact of chilly breeze raises goosebumps on my skin. He first gets rid of his pants and then my remaining clothing. I feel my back hit the sand and his familiar weight on my body. I leave a. All names and locations are real as I'd love those involved to find this online,recognize themselves and maybe get in touch !!. So another women I knew (Shirley G.) and I had very very bad reputations. What set us apart is that from the beginning, I found out about her's first and my reputation was kept a close secret, because the man involved (Fred G.) was her husband and he was fucking me.I didn't feel so bad when he told me he had "Caught his Missus some 9 times in. The suit ran towards the bus and dived onto it hastily just as the doors closed behind him. He then attempted to compose himself, walked down the bus towards the back and sat down almost opposite me and then nodded to make out he had only just spotted me there. He open up a paper on the pretence of reading it I imagine, but as I languished in the sunshine, stretch out my legs I could tell he wasn’t concentrating on the paper – unless he could read upside down of course!I pulled at my vest as if. Sure, I knew my real name well enough, even though I couldn’t use it anywhere without putting my ass in big-time jeopardy.I was currently using a made-up FBI name that I didn’t like at all.It made me sound like a mark or a wuss and probably a little bit of both. Still, it was legit and that that the bottom-line as far as the FBI was concerned. My original name was a big deal in certain East Coast locales and my mob name was sort of dirty sounding but in a funny sort of way. The Feds thought I.