‘Some…mafia scumbag took…me out. Unh! Knowing what…my wife was doing…with that marine, I kinda lost…my will to live, anyway.’ ‘Oh, no,...�� she said, then took Miles’s cock back in her mouth. Someone watching the dream would have seen a poking bulge in dreaming Camilla’s right cheek. ‘Me, I did…too much speedball,’ Larre said as his cock probed her asshole. ‘I was depressed about…the future of…my business. I wanted to…get high to…cheer up. Ah!’ Again, anyone in her bedroom watching her would have. It's almost perfect.As usual, I'm speechless -- gagged as I type - with my chains jingling as the words flow. I can feel my stiffness growing in my pink plastic panties. I feel the butt plug inside me. In the full-length mirror to my left, I can see my short, sheer, pink plastic dress, with matching bonnet and booties. I can see three bags of my pasty, drug-sweetened gruel hanging on high wall hooks behind me. I can see the chains the shackle me to my chair. So maybe I'm just a crybaby.After. I was certain enough about this that I made plans, then and there, to at last become the aggressor. If Shirley wanted me to stop, next time, she'd have to say so, in plain English. No more subtle signals that I would graciously try to read, looking for my stop-sign.If she didn't affirmatively push me away, my intention was to push on.But the next time I saw Shirley wasn't really the "next time" we'd be together and alone. She dropped by my house, early-early on the first day of the. ’ ‘We do?’ she looked at her mother, now thoroughly engrossed in bingo. ‘ If you don’t have plans, how about going out for coffee after the game?’ Maryann panicked. ‘What could he see in me’ she wondered, her confidence fading. ‘I’m just a single mother trying to make a life for my kids. On the other hand, what harm could come from a cup of coffee and some conversation? Roger seems so nice and so attractive.’ But she knew the harm – her ex-husband had seemed nice but turned out to be a louse..