When I looked at the driver, I saw the bomb from a woman and just thought it couldn't be in life. Her hair was long and dark, a delicate face that was...only lightly made up, a bust size (double D) that was stunning and she literally shines through the wet car window. Then she rolled down her passenger window and I put mine on the driver's side. My look must have spoken my volumes because she smiled and asked "Are you Sven?".Immediately I pulled myself together and replied "Hi sure I am Sven. You. I am sweating when I wake. Sweating and shaking, struggling to breathe. I look next to me and see the person there. It’s not the person from my dreams. I get out of bed. It’s been almost a year since I’ve seen him. Since he whispered ‘Shit’ while looking at the sunrise with me, since walking out of the door, and down the aisle with somebody else. I spent months trying to piece myself back together, and even more time than that trying to keep myself that way. It was all gone. Everything but the. She said nothing. I was afraid to kiss it or touch it. I was just as afraid not to, for I had no idea what the bitch wanted. Then she began to talk!"Do not consider this an invitation just sit there and listen for now. Your wife cheats on you and you do nothing. She flaunts her affairs and you act as if nothing is wrong. She has humiliated you even at parties here, questioned your manliness, and ridiculed your small cock." That's a lie, she has never made fun of my prick, never in all our years. Perhaps my fascination with their clothes should have been a warning of what was to come! Spring moved on and Easter came, and with it the school holidays. My mother, my 16 year old sister and I took the train to Scarborough, a seaside town on the North Sea. We were staying for 2 weeks in a holiday chalet not too near the beach, but not so far away too. The first night was uneventful, we were all tired from preparations, packing and travelling, and went to sleep very easily. As I lay in my bunk.