But no this was happening.She stood wearing fishnet tights red and black lacy French knickers and a red and black corset with frills around the edges....she looked at my pants and could see I had a hard on and said "well I think you have got my plumbing working" I looked at her knickers and she had a massive wet patch. she grabbed my hand placed it on her wet knickers. They felt moist and warm it was fresh. She told me to take them off and slouch on the sofa so I did. She climbed up on the sofa. “Short version, she traded up. Found someone higher up on the food-chain who made her a better offer and she was off like a shot. They married, divorced seven months later, because she caught him screwing around. Like that wasn’t part of his history. Met two more losers, neither of them lasting more than two years. She’s been married for a long time to the guy she has now. Maybe she finally found what she was looking for.”Mickey was adding it up as he talked. “So she’s been married five. Calm, quiet; he reached to pat and caress the horsy balls and could not avoid noticing the uncle to struggle and strain his muscles in tension; only to appear still and cool for the boy. He felt the huge size of balls and also the weight of life giving sperm and slush in there. The things had changed drastically in a few minutes and the meat pendulum, the muscle rod there; had him totally absorbed in the affection of the lovely creature in the shape of his horsy looking dear uncle. He touched. "Five years," he said. I was recuffed with a waist chain attached to ankle shackles and led out. The two cuckolders were there to witness my ruin. She looked sad; he looked—triumphant.Prison is nothing if not an educational institution. What did I learn? I was a fairly big guy, but there were many bigger than I in the can. One was a washed up, but one time, world class boxer, a contender. Maximo Sanchez was a welterweight or had been; he was also my cell mate. I was in good shape, had been.