Mark later asked him how he did a flip like that so that he hit the man in the back of the neck to knock him out, but Dusty couldn't have told him wha... he did or how he did it. Dusty just grunted and looked off into the distance.The only thing that was burned into his eyes right then was his wife's lips on another man and how much he wondered if she seemed to enjoy it and why she didn't fighting to get away.This triggered flash back of Lindsey and Chad at the nightclub and Dusty was a walking. “So, are you still as attracted to me now as you were two years ago?”I nearly chocked on my water. “Pretty much,” I replied not knowing how else to respond to such a bold question.She continued, “Don’t be embarrassed. I have to say I’m more attracted to you now then I was then.”Stunned I looked over at her. She had a sly smile on and her right hand was gently rubbing across her upper chest. She stared into my eyes, without looking away, slowly slid her hand inside her shirt, and gently cupped. She would not even be here except for her proven track-record of gullibility.He, on the other hand is behaving exactly as predicted, exactly as many men dedicated to their wives. Apart from his suspicions before they arrived, the initial worry about her, followed by the anger, the refusal to take part in our “little game” as he sees it, is all precisely on track. She smiles to herself thinking about how many men have thought themselves to be so clever in refusing to eat their food assuming it. He collapsed on top of her forcing her to the floor completely and they lay together, panting and gasping for air. He threw an arm over her and pulled his submissive closer to him. Master and submissive laid on the wooden floor as long as they comfortably could, until the hardness of the floor overcame the blissful rest they were enjoying. Finally, they could lay there no more and the Professor rose, helping Chelsea to stand also. "Go upstairs, my beautiful slut, and get cleaned up. I wasn't.