Only my again abused pussy lips aching in my tight jeans gave the lie. Later that night I again initiated sex with my husband. Knowing that Jason woul... probably be listening, I was louder than usual in my moans and cries of pleasure. Knowing that I was playing to an audience made my cries and moans very real, too. It’s not that my husband couldn’t be a good lover to me when he wanted to, it was just that he’d lost interest in wanting and initiating the sex. I’d gotten very tired of always. I don’t remember putting on my panties or walking out the kitchen door. I don’t remember hearing the “cat calls” from the guys or the threatening comments coming from Richie’s foul mouth. All I do remember was for the second time in an hour, I was walking down the street, trying to get the words of “You little slut” out of my mind. “I’m not a SLUT! I just like sex, that’s all!”I suddenly felt Richie’s cum flow out of my cunt to gather in the crotch of my panties. It felt disgusting and. "I wanted to jump up and run out of there. I wanted to yell. I wanted tocurse. But in the end, I just sat there and let Stern Stylist do herworst. She rolled my wet hair up in a line of curlers from my foreheadto the back of my neck. I looked like a skinny Asian kid with a pinkMohawk. But Stern wasn't done there. She forced my head to the side andworked three more of the curlers on each side and two more behind eachear. My scalp hurt from the tightness of the curlers as well as. I placed my case in the vestibule at the entrance to the coach and hoped no one would move it for I had placed it in such a way that it would afford me a little cover if I chose to adjust anything (Thinking of beads and balls).I gingerly sat down and waited for the time of departure, I casually looked around the coach. I was hoping to find my three sperm donors but these guys taking their seats looked like they would have heart attack if they so much as got an erection. Then my eyes made.