" My wife, still rubbing her pussy, looked at me, then without hesitation, opened her door, and rotated round, feet out the door and toes resting on ...he kerb. Her bum was on the edge of the seat and legs, restricted by the door aperture, open partially. "Better?" she asked. There was a nervous type of laugh, followed by "kind of" from one of the lads. "OK," she said and looked up and down the road, then hopped out of the car to the bus shelter, beside the road. She discarded her gown as she. ”“Oh,” replied Kim unsure what to make of that information. She asked, “So who are the other people?”Kelly answered, “The one with the white beard is John. He’s our other husband.”Beth said, “The older gentleman is Mike Holden, he’s the director of the FBI. The other woman is Deana Ahlberg. She’s head of the criminal investigations branch of the IRS. They are staying the night here.”Stopping in total surprise, Kim asked, “What are they doing here?”Making light of the situation, Kelly said, “Oh,. It was 'party' day. I could barely keep my emotion down, or maybe that was bile. My stomach was so upset and the voices raged thru my mind. 'Whore.' 'Slut.' 'Fucking tramp.' I was desperate to stop and hopeless snared. I resigned myself to going through with this vile day."Wake up honey. You'll be late for your plane." Fuck the plane. Let me sleep. I'll catch another plane tomorrow." No way buster," I said in panic. "My pussy cannot take another 'goodbye' fuck. You get your ass up and fly out. The one thing you do know is that it's not any scent your wife would wear. She's into floral scents, this is more tropical. It reminds you of the coconut oil strippers at the club you used to hang out at in college use to use."Oh fuck," you mumble. Your voice sounds funny, but you're too worried that you're going to wake up in bed with someone who is not your wife that you barely notice.You open your eyesand stare up at the ceiling. It's not your ceiling, at least there's that. Maybe your wife.