I remain against the wall on the other side of the floor, observing from the shadows. I can’t take my eyes off him, he’s so cute, even with ginger...hair! (By the way, I’m being ‘ironic’ here because, actually, I have ginger hair too!) But I notice there was no kissing or affectionate hugs when he greeted his friends. He talks animatedly, laughing and joking, and I love his crooked smile. I also admire the profile of his jeans as he shifts his weight from one hip to the other, accentuating his. Nearly every time we had sex he wanted me to describe what Mary and I did together: how it started, what different kinds of sex we had, what I liked the most from her and her from me.For a while it wasn't a problem. It was easy enough for me to make up stories, and I usually didn't have to say very much before he was so wound-up that he'd fuck me like crazy. Even Sam's best couldn't hold a candle to Chet, but he was my husband and I loved him and I was happy to be turning him on so much.But. We even carried them in my truck to a pickup point for UPS.We did need an industrial kitchen steam cabinet or two. Just to breakdown the fiber in the stalks, so we bought five of those from the Industrial Kitchen Supply company. That and the chopper blender is all we really had to have to start the manufacturing of the tea.So when the cardboard boxes and the envelopes, which held the tea, arrived from the private printer in mobile everything was ready. They cost at least twice the amount we. In. Out. I could sense that he wanted it faster, harder, but I wasn't ready it give it to him yet. “You love having my cock inside you, don't you, bitch?” “Y-yes, Liza.” His voice was strained. I sighed. “That doesn't sound very convincing at all. Do better.” He took a deep breath. “I love getting fucked by your cock, Liza. I love being a nasty little slut for you.” “Mmm, I know you do. But you know what I think you'd really like? And more importantly, what I'd really like?” I stopped fucking.