She had almost reached center stage when she heard someone greet her. She spun around as Miss Carstairs stepped through the curtains behind her. "Miss...Carstairs, you wrote that letter?" Catie asked. "Yes. Does that gross you out?" "No, not really. I didn't know you liked girls, we all thought that you had a man in your life," Catie stated. "Not since my first year of college, but I let everyone believe I did. It saves me from the endless questioning, and please call me Marsha. Almost against. Luckily she had the sense to reach for her machete the moment she lost the camera because she was pulled down by the sheer force of the two, thick tentacles which snaked around her legs, pulling them together and preventing her from getting up. She felt the sharp thorns trying to push into her legs, but the fine carbon mesh was strong enough to withhold the pressure.The fact that the tentacles were trying to penetrate her skin was her saviour and with a guttural grunt, using the machete, she. Yet here I was lying in bed with an afterglow of not only playing with myself, but also using an object to put inside of myself in place of my husband. On top of that, I said the filthiest things as I did it.Now I was starting to feel bad about it. I realized that I loved it so much that I was almost ready to do it again just to enjoy that filthy feeling of being so nasty with myself.I laid there remembering, lounging in the after glow. I told myself to get up. I knew I had to get to the office. Thank you." Her blue eyes latched onto his for a moment, through that mirror, hurt and questioning. 'What happened ... what did I do wrong?'He fixed his attention on the road ahead, and set the car in motion...Marcus walked her to her front door and waited patiently while she dug through her bag, for her keys.Only when the door was open did he speak."I wanted to say again ... thank you so very much for everything that you've done for us today ... and I need to ask more of you – I'm.