“May I have this dance?” He stared back into my innocent looking, dusty blue-grey eyes, awaiting my response. I nodded, walking behind him as he...led me to the dance floor, still holding onto my hand. Everyone was watching our every move, even the people around us that were already dancing. A slow song came on as we reached a space on the crowed dance floor; he placed my hand on his shoulder before he slid one hand around onto the small of my back, pulling me close to him. Our bodies moving as. I walked to the kitchen and was gone approximately five minutes grabbing three glasses and a bottle of Crown Royal, and as I walked into the bedroom, I heard my wife explaining, "What in the name of good sense makes you think a hand job isn't sex; she would still feel like she was engaging in a sexual act, and feeling slutty."He replied, "But I would be the only one getting off, and, well... Awe hell I don't know."I set the bottle and glasses down on the dresser and jokingly said, "Are you. .." His pleasure?" Cheryl rolled her eyes."When we punish our slaves, it has to be out of love, not anger," I told her."But you let me do it," Cheryl pointed out. "You wanted me to do it." Only because I was right there with you," I said, but I was regretting it even so and I wished there had been a better way. It wasn't good giving Cheryl her first taste the way I had. It had set a bad example."You have to let the past go, whatever happened before today doesn't matter," I continued. "The what. First, I tried picking some wallets, but most were devoid of cash, filled with pennies, plastic money, the occasional condom, and the usual NRA member's card. I tried to lift some cash off the various stands, but all I got was some Mexican pesos, some one-dollar bills cut in half, and monopoly money, which seemed to be legal tender in the crowd but wouldn't be of any use in the real world.Had it been any other day, I would have called it quits, and gone home to a glass of wine and watch the.