That will change, I don’t seek competition but I’ll be fucked if she’s going to beat me again. There is pain in my future, not the good kind eit...er. Ho hum... We dashed, giggling to the showers, washing ourselves because we wanted breakfast more than sex, but we still did the ‘thing’, shampooing each other’s hair, rinsing, enough contact to maintain the bond. Towelled dry, mostly, we hit the dining area, coffee in big mugs and breakfast, not ordered, breakfast was self service. We self served,. The closer I got to home the darker my thoughts became. When I turned onto the street our street I saw a cab parked at the curb in front of my house and I wondered about that. Even if the driver would have helped Herb get Wendy into the house he should have been long gone by now.I have absolutely no idea what made me drive past the house and park down the street, but I did and started walking back. I circled the house, looking in all of the downstairs windows, but I couldn't see anything. I let. At a table intended to seat four people, we took up barely two places as we ate the warm croissants and chatted idly about ourselves. At one point she reached across me for the coffee pot and I once again felt the gentle pressure of a breast as it brushed against my arm.I stiffened and she looked at me worriedly,"What is it Jackie, what's wrong?" For God's sake." I whispered as I sat back in my seat and caught my breath."What?" she was alarmed until I giggled and felt the redness of. Though to be fair, she’d sealed my place on that plane by yanking my shorts down, slurping my rapidly inflating cock into her mouth, and sucked me off to a heart-pounding orgasm. So here I am, buckled tightly into my seat, a flight attendant droning through the safety spiel. Forty minutes ago, I’d gone through the airport peep-show scanners and proceeded to be violated by a burly TSA agent with pimples, Wolverine muttonchops, and a squeakier voice than that girl from Scrubs. What a fucked up.