It was getting close to midnight and Marcela still hadn’t come home, he had sat down pouring himself some wine as he waited, constantly checking his...watch and straining his ears for footsteps, but none came his way. He was angry now. Here he was, worried about her, and she was probably having the time of her life. He knew he shouldn’t have come. And with that thought he got up to leave, slightly unstable because of the wine, he slowly moved towards the door, but as he opened it, he saw Marcela. I admit that I was entranced by all the attention being lavished on me and, when she dropped the veil over my face and placed a single red rose in my hand as my bouquet, I fell deep into a subspace where I not only felt completely feminine but where my brain was struggling to convince me that I was not an innocent girl on her wedding day.We both heard the front door opening (He has a key, of course) and my wife rushed to greet him telling me to sit on the edge of the bed, that she’d text me. Then Samantha's husband called across to her that he was ready, and as shewas leaving, Samantha reminded Stephanie about a barbecue at her house thenext Sunday. Trapped, she could hardly decline and found herself shyly acceptingthe invitation. Almost as soon as Samantha was out of the door, her salad arrived and sherealised that she was one step closer to the moment. She couldn't bring herselfto enjoy the food, she was too excited at the prospect of her forthcoming humiliating.She could feel. A 4. Patrick smiled wide. “Oh, yes, girl. Looks like time for a little payback. Two pair beats a pair of aces last time I checked. But let’s leave it at six pieces. That way you can fold right now and at least keep your panties and bra and survive to another hand.” “No way, bub,” I returned and immediately turned my next card. Ace. I laughed out loud, not sure if it was from amusement or relief. “Sorry, Buster, three bullets beats two pair.” “So, you’re upping the bet?” Now it was my turn to.