Helen’s one of the types who has always had everything she’s ever wanted. Helen’s parents are rich. She was her high school’s prom queen, lead...cheerleader, and just generally all around most popular girl. Things didn’t change for her in college either. Guys followed her around like she was some bitch in heat.How did we meet? My sister took me to the fall apple festival outside Gettysburg one September. I guess it was 1995. Helen was there scooping up those utterly tasteless French fried sweet. “Only about twenty per cent of the eligible adults in there are even registered,” Cal lamented, “and fewer than half of those voted last time.”“Maybe they didn’t have anything to vote for,” Roxie said.Cal swung his head around and looked at Roxie. He saw that Herb was looking at her, too.“To tell you the truth,” she said, “I didn’t vote in the last election, either.”“You didn’t vote?” Cal asked.Cal knew he shouldn’t have been surprised. It had never occurred to him that a person he knew. He was such a failure as a husband; he deserved it after all didn’t he? The Count had become just as much a drug for the addicted Claude as he had become for his sex-crazed young wife. When Martine would dress in her beautiful lace dresses and prepare for a visit to the Count her husband Claude would fall to his knees and beg his wife to tell him what she planned to do that night with her master. She would always giggle her feminine giggles and smile down at her husband’s begging while patting. I told her of how I got started, by accident of course, when doing the wash, bending over the clothes while naked and Duke getting in a little spontaneous nosing…the shock of it…the persistence of Duke, once he had my scent, and who wouldn’t be pushed off and then how my body convinced me to relax and succumb to nature. Like most girls I liked a good licking and learned that a dog had a unique tool…a long, slavering tongue…to send a girl to a kind of dreamland. Later his cock sent me to my.