It was an off-premises club. Where would we go to fuck and could we get someone to go with us. We did not have any guarantee that we could hook up wit... a couple. Even though my future wife said she could make it happen. While I really wanted to do this, I was afraid that with the logistics not being easy. It would not happen and I would be really disappointed after being all hyped up. We talked about her trying to pick up a single guy and getting him to fuck her in front of me. But where, how. ”“Then why did you break up with me?”“I was stupid, immature. And my mother was sick. I didn’t know what I had, what we had. But it’s too late now. We can’t go back.” Tears formed in his eyes and he began to cry, with low snuffles. “Oh, Tim, don’t do that to me. You’re hurting me right here.”I touched my chest with my shoes.He controlled himself with an effort.“Will I see you again?”“That wouldn’t be a good idea, would it?”I put on my shoes, towering over him again. I threw my coat over my arm. Sandra knew her rear door equipment tended to fling open at the least hint of a visitor. As a joke of sorts, she had recently purchased a little desk quote that cryptically stated,"Back door friends are the best friends in the world"Not very many people understood the double entendre but she derived pleasure just watching people read her little message and think her a little weird.The front doorbell rang out loud and clear.Shemba jumped up from the sofa and smoothed the tight-fitting dress over. You see I'd captured my cum in my hand and in the thong. It was a mighty eruption that I enjoyed very much, but I had to act quickly, dispose of the evidence and hope there would be no repercussions. There was no way I could leave these here tonight in the 'found' bag! Fuck! I panicked and then seeing my janitors' cart sitting there decided to just ball the thong up, after cleaning myself off thoroughly, and just throw it out with the trash. Perfect plan. Why I was so frightened or thought some.