The magazines were an odd mix, Seventeen and Field and Stream, Modern Woman and GQ.The hair stylist who called me to her chair was named Bonnie.I sai... that's a pretty name, she said, that's what it means, Pretty.You've got lovely hair, she said and I blushed, no one ever told me that before.She looked me over and said how do you want it cut?I said, just trim it up and shape it in the back, I like it left full.She said do you want me to cut it longer?Longer, I said, thinking I was joking, how. After the flurry of ‘hellos’ we settled down to our meals, my bloody Mary and sausages and, a lot of talk. I had no reason to ask him anything. The greeting, being allowed to sit on his lap, his one hand on my leg, said it all – my position in his life was still safe. How I was gonna’ get around my sore bottom and, my sore cunt, was something I’d have to – maybe – wiggle my way out of.When things settled down Roger made the announcement that there were gifts on the way. He’d sent them as. "Oh god John that’s so good!” she said.I loved her taste, and the taboo of knowing she tasted exactly like her daughter was making me even more aroused. There were a million thoughts going through my head, but the ones most clear were of comparisons with her daughter, my ex-wife of twelve years. As I felt her begin to rock against my tongue I knew she was getting to the point of no return. I ran my tongue upwards towards her pretty, tight, ass. As my tongue made contact with her rim she jumped. Their actions left me quite confused, as the kissesand fondling had left me excited as well. The reaction to being seen asa sexually desirable woman by men was new to me, but it had obviouslymade me feel good about my feminine side. As they left, I got the bagand went back up the elevator. I was trying to think of some scathingcommentary I could deliver that would make Anne reconsider her plannedbetrayal of me. Re-entering the apartment, I saw them sitting on thecouch. Seeing the bag, Anne.