Or you could divorce me? I already had the papers drawn up. Want to loose a second woman to that fucking god and his amazing cock.” He looked upset,...I thought he might cry. He looked like someone had just kicked him in the balls. He knew I had caught him red handed. I bet that he didn’t want to loose to his high school bully again We sat and didn't speak. Finally he saw it my way and got up to go talk to his friend. I was surprised but afterward I saw it as an act of ultimate love. I had been. I catch your eye and we exchange a slight smile. I've maneuvered my way to stand right in front of you. It's been raining so I have on a long trench coat-just got off of work and I'm wearing my best Italian suit. I can tell by the way you look at me that you like what you see. Suddenly the train pulls out of the station with a jolt-you are knocked slightly off balance-I reach under your jacket and around your waist to steady you pulling you close to me. I look into your eyes and without. But it was his cum, right? So you’re saying he fucked her, and then she just died – just like that?! How the fuck does that happen?”“What?! ‘Avada ke–’ yeah, very funny, Harry, ha fucking ha… OK… OK, so now we have a dead body, and a missing lecherous priest – but no evidence of any foul play at all?” D. I. McCann was having a bad day. She knew who the victim was; she knew who the prime suspect was: after all, his semen – DNA tests had confirmed it – had been seeping out of the victim’s pussy. We were watching TV and chatting about needing to work out and lose the weight. Heather mentioned that she need a “workout cop” to monitor her progress. This story is about how I became her “workout cop” and used her love of naughty peeing to keep her focused. Or, more importantly, how I used her love of naughty pee to my maximum benefit . . . lol. As I continued to rub her back, I asked her what rewards or punishments she would need to stay on track with exercise. Heather laughed and said.