I told him what I remembered about the attack. He was particularly interested in how I bashed the guys face in. I told him it was only one blow from m... knee. He seemed satisfied and closed his book."We already got a confession out of the guy with the bashed face. He is at another hospital getting taken care of. He said McKenzie's assistant had paid them to attack you. It was supposed to look like a mugging. If Mr. Rooker hadn't been following you, it might have been worse." Excuse me?" I. He would try and dance her into a dark corner and run his hands over her tits and grip her ass. She'd whisper to me that he had a big hard cock. I'd pull her to me and press my cock on her mound and ask her if she was having fun teasing him.Carol would say, "I'm a very dirty girl."We both enjoyed the flirting game. It was the most erotic foreplay. We'd go home and have wild sex and whisper dirty secrets to each other. When we fucked, my cock was iron hard and her cunt was flowing with hot. The acrid smell of a perm in process and the sounds of female laughterand busy dryers and the sight of several women around my age tightly incurlers of all sizes, serenelysitting under gleaming dryer helmets, washed away my unease. I knew assoon as I walked into this glorious torture chamber that this was whereWendy belonged.I gave Claudette's hand a huge squeeze and went right up to thereceptionist and said: "Mon nom est Wendy, s'il vous pla?t assurez ?treaussi beau que la femme peut l'?tre.". Paul is my oldest. My ex left because I wanted him to, and Paul left because he wanted to. I call him my ex because even the sound of his name is like chalk on a blackboard. My ex wasn’t a good husband, he wasn’t a good father, he wasn’t a good lover, and he wasn’t a good person. His resume speaks for itself, enough said. On the day Mr.Ex left, Paul said, “Doreen, he’s history?” I said yes and he said, “Oh.” Paul never mentioned or asked about his father again. That’s the way he is, a shrug of.