It was win-win. I didn't hear from Pamela for several days after the blow up. But, I did see her, twice. Once in the supermarket and once at the phar...acy. She knew my habits and she knew about my allergy. We didn't speak either time: I ran out of the places as soon as I spotted her. The second time, at the pharmacy, I saw her smile; like she knew something that I didn't and thought it was funny. Well, I didn't think it was funny, not at all. What was also true was the fact that she was fucking. She slammed her fist hard on the presentation table in front of her. "god fucking wow damn it shit my goodness Jesus you are...oh you and my husband need to trade sex secrets he could learn something from you... holy cow!" she exclaimed looking over across the room. "have a seat on that chair over there sweetie I wanna ride that dick of yours." she demanded. She didn't have to ask me twice, I sat on a nearby chair and she climbed on top of me and took my dick and guided it into her. "oh oh boy. She was ready for them, quivering for them, her long legs moving sinuously and her belly rippling as a fresh supply of lubricating fluids bathed the satin wall of her vagina. An orgy, she thought--a real orgy of flesh and mind, with her as the focal point, the centerpiece for their adoration.If Marshall could only see her at this moment, Luaralee mused; if only her ex-husband could stand somewhere nearby and see the wife he had called frigid, the wife he'd walked out on because she was so. If Sandra could see me right now she wouldn't need to worry about trying to embarrass me on Thursday!As it was, I actually saw Sandra once more on Wednesday, late that afternoon. I had just finished up with my client-from-hell, who I had been convinced really did want me as his lawyer, and ended up getting him a short jail sentence, which the judge, to my surprise, commuted to strictly community service and a fairly hefty fine, which my client grumbled about."It's better than doing the time," I.