You are there.But somehow, we still make it work. We enjoy the time we spend together in so many ways. You make me laugh. You make me think. You make ...e wet. We’ve perfected the art of cumming together during our chats and you’ve become the person I tell my naughtiest secrets to. Why would we risk ruining that?Of course, I blame myself for this.I should never have told you about my upcoming work trip, that I will be within a few hundred miles from where you live for almost two weeks. If I had. The bottom line is that I'm not looking for an excuse because it was the beginning of something beautiful for all of us. I thrive on sex. I need it regularly just to function normally. Actually it really doesn't matter how often I have sex because any erotic sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, or though has me wet and ready for more in a heartbeat. The problem with that is that I haven't had a steady sex life since my husband left me for a less sexually demanding girl fourteen years ago. The. He wore the centuries-old traditional garb of a member of Her Majesty’s Court of Justice, including the traditional long white horsehair wig that was supposedly meant to disguise the identity of the judge in historical times but was now merely an affectation of office. As soon as the trial judge sat down in his seat the rest of the court returned to their seats. There followed a brief pause while the judge took a few moments to set out his own paperwork on the table before him. ‘This court is. Dammit!I gape.Owens digs around inside the bag without revealing anything. Everythingin the bag appears to be sealed in plastic. Finally he finds what hewants."Where is that lovely lady of the household?" he calls out.Stewart presents himself eagerly. He is stepping from one bare-foot tothe other. He is ecstatic. Owens is Stewarts personal Santa Claus."I brought these along for some reason and I think you will enjoy them,"he says as he presents a package to Stewart.It's a small, flat package.