Yep, honey, you’ve just sired a COVID baby!”“Guess we’ll really have to get hitched now!” I taunted her with a swat.“Yes, but on the brigh... side ... I’m Catholic. There is no divorce. You’ll never have to worry about me taking you to the cleaners. Besides, I’m not exactly poor myself,” Melanie giggled as she put a blank DVD into our DVD/Blu-ray player.“What’s this?” I wondered, but she put a finger to my lips.The other girls surrounded me and began kissing my flesh while we watched, every last. In fact, I suspect that most men would stand in awe of another man who could make a living as a gigolo. I think that we could get away with it if we didn't make too much noise about it or give too much detailed information. I'll have to tell Sue and Joe of my idea. It can't hurt anything even if it doesn't help.Meanwhile, we still have to make a living. Sometimes, though, there is more to it than that. There was another call for me to visit Ms A, the gymnastics instructor. I had liked her, even. Over the next three weeks Marlene lived up to her slut/whore image while I watched in amazement at the change in her. In the space of five months she had gone from dutiful to unfaithful wife and then to absolute slut. She fucked Harry and Stan two or three times a week; she fucked Phil about four times a week, on average (and yes, I did get his account) and in addition she was still fucking Bob twice a day. And in addition to all of that she was trying to fuck me to death every night and during. She brushed an errant lock of hair from her face and composed herself."You've every right to be angry with me," she began. "But before we say anything else I want you to know that I love you and..." And I love you," Simon interrupted. "We need to go through this all another time and another place." He looked at the clock on the dresser. "We've got three hours to hit the target and get our heads down." Where are we going?" She suddenly realized that she had forgotten to ask.Simon slid his heads.