I have a pair of small binoculars in the bottom of one of my bags. I get them, return to my chair, and hand them to Alice. She trains them on the guy....He is wearing tighty whiteys and a t-shirt. The woman stares around the curtains periodically. Alice hands the binoculars back to me and returns to playing with her breasts. The guy goes back to the telescope. After a short time I can see a bulge in his shorts. He keeps motioning for the woman to come back out and, eventually, she does. We both. It didn’t matter. I’d had to do it. A man’s woman was his responsibility. If I’d been the man I should’ve been she never would’ve cheated on me. She never would have been in that cheap ass motel that day. No, I’d done the right thing: fifteen years of doing the right thing.“But, that was the limit of my responsibility. Victoria Grimes was responsible for destroying my life after I finally did get out. Not Nathan Grimes, not Selena Steele-Grimes; no none of them; it was Victoria Grimes who’d. With 23 she was the same age as Jane but she acted like a silly teenager whose role model was Paris Hilton – complete with hairless mini rat – or chihuahua as that was what Tiffany claimed the animal to be.“I now we have had a lot of fun this evening.” Tiffany squealed in her little-girl voice and her pink friends giggled along. “But now it's time for the ultimate fun event of this evening!” 'If she's saying we're playing spin the bottle I'm out of here!' Jane thought to herself and sipped on. Inside the top drawer Ifound piles of knickers. All were made of either satin or lace, fromskimpy little thongs to French knickers and some control briefs, alldecorated with pretty bows and details. Below that was a drawer ofbras. Most, I noticed, seemed to match the knickers in the drawerabove: low cut satin wonderbras, strapless ones, fuller ones. Ofcourse, my search continued. I was to find a beautiful array ofhosiery, most still fresh in their packs - here was a lady who didn?tneed to.