I went back to the laundry room and picked up Jamal’s clothes hanging on the rope. I smelled the boxers and I could feel Jamal’s scent right away ...nd I breathed deeply. I felt a bitter taste as I licked it.Then I stuck my face and sensed his odor, his sweat and semen…I carried that boxer to my bedroom and dropped my blue jeans down. Then I found my tiny thong was soaking wet. I slipped it off and lapped my own fluids with my tongue.Then I reclined on the bed and took Jamal’s boxers in my hand.. He kept pace as the van traveled outside the bounds of the city to a long abandoned steel mill that sat like a decomposing corpse among a throng of vacant, ramshackle houses. There, careful to stay downwind out of respect for Mia's exceptional olfactory sense, he watched from a distance as the bodies of his former minions were loaded into the rusted ruins of the mill's Bessemer blast furnace, doused with gasoline and set ablaze. Mia and the policemen somberly tended the fire, liberally adding. .Daya: Haste hue bass itni choti gift woh to mein aapko kabhi bhi de sakti hoon. Kuch bada mangiye naaHarsh: tu bass intna karde dayaDaya: Mein toh aap ko bohot bada tofa doongiHarsh ka mann machal haata heDaya Harsh ke karib aakar usse kiss karti he aur kyonki daya ke boobs kafi bade aur shape mein hein woh Harsh ki chati par lagre thee..Harsh kiss karte samay apna haath daya ki kamar par chala raha tha aur usse dabba raha thaDaya: Aap mujhe kuch nahi denge kyaHarsh: Bol kya karoon. Apne haath. [Sally... If you happen to read this, you know I've changed your name in this story and you know by reading the story it's really about you. PM me! I've always missed you and want to reconnect.]The Sex LaboratoryBefore I get into any more of our experiences at our new club, let me make a few observations about using sex outside of your primary relationship. Sex surrogates became an acceptable counseling practice 40-50 years ago. Comparatively, not that many counselors use them as a therapy even.