Michelle offered me my glass from which I drank deeply, a huge sigh of relief came from deep inside my gut. “Thank you.” I murmured, placing the g...ass back on the table. I continued telling Michelle of the ramifications of that night and my wife’s reaction. She listened attentively and added comments here and there. My emotions ebbed and flowed and all the while Michelle was the oil on my tormented seas. “I think you are (were) right again on that point, Ray.” Michelle offered. Her soft voice. She was wearing nylon gym shorts, which provided absolutely no padding for the hard spanking I was giving her. They were very short, and I could see her panties through the leg holes. I whacked her butt with ferocity. All the anger and resentment I felt toward my family, who had left me, came out. All the bad behavior and disrespect I had taken from Winnie drove me to spank her as hard as I could. After twenty or so swats, I regained my senses. She had stopped resisting about halfway through. In any event, ten minutes later we were slowly entering the snow- and ice-covered freeway from the entrance ramp. Traffic was nearly non-existent, most people being far more intelligent than I, and anything above thirty miles per hour threatened to break the tires’ tenuous grip on the road, so we crept along.It was very tense driving, my fingers tight on the wheel and any inputs to acceleration, brakes, or steering done as though I had an egg in a shallow saucer on the dash which I had to keep. I searched the auctions, trade papers, magazines, car shows, and collectors. For my budget of $20,000. everything was too rich for my taste. Until one collector gave me a lead on a Mustang convertible of a guy who had died about two years ago. He knew the car was partially restored and thought that the widow still had the car.I contacted the lady, she said that she still had the car, but was not ready to part with it. I said, "Okay" and I left her my contact information. When she was ready to.