'You know when you explained the difference between fucking and making love.'She nodded.'It's a bit like that. What I did with you, ' I grinned, 'both...times, and with Sue was fucking, great fucking but fucking none the less. I see what you meant about mutual pleasure but can you see what I mean.'She shook her head. I tried again.'When I bought those flowers, I lied to the flower seller, I said they were for my girlfriend.' Rachel smiled at that. 'I was surprised just how good that little. I was disobeying my marital vows, I was dishonoring my husband, and I was having what was, in my family anyways, taboo sex. My thoughts ended in the last thought of my cycle, and the lack of sexual safety. I was unprotected, and he was bareback in me. I figured I was safe for this trip, having recently ended my period, but one was never absolutely certain, and that added to the sexual tension, the thrill. Yes, I could wind up pregnant, the bearer of a black man’s c***d.I looked up in time. They’d taken their meal ticket for granted for so long that they were in for some very nasty surprises.I’d filed the papers in each folder in the same order.The eviction notice for Susan and Helen’s apartment, on grounds of unpaid rent, matched Cynthia’s updated mortgage statement for the house, which showed that the bank now owned 80% of the value and 120% of the equity we’d taken years to build up.Next was the unpaid final reminder for my ex-daughters’ college fees, and the screenshots of the. But that was from my wife trying to make it all up to me as she allowed me to suck her strap-on. All in all, I guess I did look like a slightly used prostitute – which played well into our costumed setup.We went out to a bar, where we both got quite the looks. People admired her and looked dubiously at me. When women and couples would come up to us and ask us what we were dressed up as, my wife would say, “I’m the pimp, and this is my…” waiting a few beats to let me chime in “and I’m her.