’ ‘Yes … but I didn’t know you were married, I don’t … ‘ Gilles Moreaux stopped her. ‘You didn’t know , but you could have suspected... a man of my age. My wife is a highly sexual creature – she understands me completely Mila, do you understand? Completely !’ Mila’s heart was pounding, but she was a girl who didn’t believe in regrets. She wanted to fuck this man, to feel his cock throbbing in her mouth, her cunt and anywhere he wanted to put it. Tonight she would be a slut for him and let him be. I did remember: I remembered dad coming home all smelling like chemicals, his face all gray and tired and then, once he had changed and had a shower, he was my dad again. I remembered we all laughed a lot, and mom hardly ever got angry or cried like she does now a lot. And then it all changed. Dad went away, mom cried all the time and things were not so good anymore. Oh yes, I remembered.But finally it was three thirty and the bell rang for the last class of the day. I grabbed my books, slammed. "My stomach has been acting funny. It comes and it goes."Toby showed up about two, and showed Candace and Jean the video, suitably edited for flow and content, but complete. Then he showed her a much shorter and more embarrassing version that would certainly have Fred Carter up in arms if he saw it. Candace laughed a lot, but left it at that -- except for a comment to Lon: "My, you're getting to be well-rounded! BDSM, interracial sex, bisexual..." Lon grimaced.Jean said nothing, but Toby could. I read some stories on the web, read my kindle, on which quite a few hot stories was downloaded, jerked off, cleaned up and moved on. Several times, the same old, same old. Shit, it’s a routine! And while I was a routine person, it sort of satisfied me. It was routine… Sometimes I wonder why we are even together. She has her schedule, I have mine. We talk about her job, we talk about mine. We eat, we shower, we get to bed, we fight. Two weeks after our conversation in the bedroom, I pick her up.