His groan meshes with the distorted bass that throbs from the speakers.“Maybe I don’t wanna talk,” he says.“Are you shy?” I ask.“Maybe I d...n’t have anything to say to you,” he says, his voice getting deeper. “I know what you are.”I bite my lip. I try not to laugh. “You’re supposed to treat a whore like a princess,” I say.He grunts and pulls me toward him. I slip over the counter, gripping my fingers around its squared edge. He grips my waist, slides his hand down. He grabs my ass and he pushes. Things didn’t change much for the next couple of months. In mid-February, we took a weeks’ vacation to St Pete’s beach in Florida. We stayed at the Grand Plaza hotel right on the beach. It was supposed to be a recharging our batteries and relationship. The batteries got recharged and the relationship seemed good for this week.We got into the airport around noon and got our luggage. I rented car from Alamo car rental and they gave us a map of St. Pete. We got to our hotel around 2:00 pm. Our. I mean, sure, he was a good-looking guy for somebody his age, which I guess was early to mid-30s. It was much too obvious that he was married, unless that mousy little thing attached to his arm was a girlfriend, or, dare I hoped, an insecure sister. She reminded me of Shelly Duvall in “The Shining,” all legs and arms and pale, smooth skin. She was pushing one of those armored baby carriages, the kind that look like you could rent them on airbnb.And judging by the way he ogled that busty blonde. “I’d be nervous if you weren’t around. After all, I’m a damsel in distress.” He looked at her seriously. “No, you’re not. Maybe Kathleen is a damsel in distress, but not my Kate.” He climbed off the sleigh, but not before the words hit Kathleen – his Kate. “ Come on, slowpoke. We’ve got to get back. I don’t want you out here too long.” When she joined him, he handed her a couple of hard peppermint candies. “Here, give these to the boys and they’ll do anything for you.” The horses whinnied and.