"Especially if the rooms in their own house are locked up tight. You don't want your man wondering what someone else's furniture looks like, right?" S...e turned back to Linda, lifted one shoulder for emphasis. "You wanna keep him home and happy, you should let him use the whole house." Only sluts do those things," Linda defended. "I'm his wife, not some cheap whore." Once again the conversation froze, and Linda's last words hung in the air, a Hindenburg about to burst into flame. But once again. .. and trust me, it's not that I don't like or find you desirable, because as you can feel, I obviously do."I felt her looking at me. Really felt it. Suddenly, she just collapsed on my chest and started crying. She made no effort to move away, she was just crying as she lay on my chest. Not knowing what else to do, I just held her. When the crying subsided she started speaking.She told me about her childhood, being the youngest child of a family of five. A submissive mother, a bastard father. He felt, as though it were a taste in his mouth, a need to shunt aside thoughts of her, a woman he liked to think of as a girlfriend rather than a whore he knew. But now was not the time to regret past mistakes and missed opportunities. Not with Ai rubbing his feet. With just a look into her eyes, witnessing what seemed to be her complete contentment, his thoughts came back to the present. ‘How did I get so lucky?’ He wondered, not for the first time. ‘How come God loves me so much? What did I. I had watched her slip into the creamy ivory panties before we left for dinner. Not directly. Through a mirror in the bathroom as I finished my shave. At almost any moment, she would have bared herself for my viewing. Yet sometimes I preferred these voyeuristic moments when I caught her within the mundane, unaware of me, unaware of herself, when I could see her completely. I felt the silk dampen as I traced along her slit. Her breathing had grown deeper, punctuated with soft mewls. I signaled a.