. well, I have his contact numbers too. I’ll figure out something. One of these days. Won’t do the wife much good, but I’ll feel a little better...about the human condition once I’m finished with him.Vanessa offered to select our wedding dresses and I was happy to turn over the responsibility to her. She knows more, and cares more, about clothes than I do. By far. It’s not that I’m a frump. It’s just that Vanessa has more style.Plus, I was busy working during Wedding Week. It happens. Slow times. She was not wearing any panty, I saw her ass and found that both the bums were very hard and her skin was so sliky that my hands where slipping over her. She told me not to do this as she was feeling that my cock was coming out of her mouth and asked me to be in standing position. She was sucking my cock. I was getting excited and I grabbed her around the shoulders and pulled her up. She turned and looked at me, her mouth was wet and she gave me a kiss. I saw her eyes were gleaming. She asked. Even if the love died, my sense of obligation would make sure of that.Who the fuck do these bastards think they are? How dare they do this to their wives? It would make me cry, I'd tell Annie about what had happened, and we'd cry each other to sleep. One day, I knew, I'd get back at them. I'd make one of these assholes pay through every fucking orifice of their rotten, overweight body.I did make decent money for my profession. I had a technique that made my tailing almost untraceable. Its. She was a stay-at-home mother but always made a point of being properly done up: a sharp dress or blouse and skirt, always with hosiery and heels. Some days she would head out on her own, leaving me alone at lunch or after school to deal with my sex-obsessed thoughts of her. I’d take the opportunity to rummage through her lingerie drawer, pulling out her brassieres or stockings. I’d feel the smoothness of the fabric and imagine what it would be like to run my hands up her silky legs or fondle.