I took a deep breath. I looked over at the clock in the dinette where we were all clustered about. It read 11:15 a.m.“Okay then,” I said “Twenty...eight years ago I met and married Stacey Wilcox. We began our lives together and everything looked totally wonderful. Then, there was ‘my’ daughter Jenna, and no man alive was happier than was I.“But then, over the years, between then and now, things went from wonderful to bad, for me. But, again, now, I’ve been advised that we, and especially me,. I could get a better blowjob from the hand dryer in a men's room."She took her mouth off of my cock and in an irritating, whiney voice she said, "You hate me don't you?"I thought about that for a minute. Do I hate her? No, I don't think so. I no longer invest that much emotion in her at all. No hate, no love. But I have lost all respect for her. I do feel antagonism towards her. I'm well aware that I want to punish her for the way she's treated me and for what she's done to our marriage.It. Notice the numbers along the top? Those are file numbers and internal addresses located within the computer. All you need to do is get a judge to issue a warrant and the rest, as the saying goes, is history," I told him a bit smugly."What is it you do for a living anyway, Mr. Wilshire? I am afraid that the information sheet I reviewed didn't contain that information," Mark asked me curiously."I am independently wealthy. I run a philanthropic agency, that distributes funds that my conservative. I was appalled. There, sitting on the commode seat, was Beverly. Kneeling in front of her was the stripper from the club. I couldn't believe it. The stripper was licking her, her long tongue buried in Bev's womanhood."Lick me bitch," I heard Bev bark out. "Eat my pussy you goddamn slut. That's it cunt, eat Bev's pussy."I could see Bev shudder. I knew she was having an orgasm. Now another, and another.I felt the heat between my legs. This was wrong and I wasn't going to allow myself to be drawn.