She and Kalliope had been friends since they were both junior officers together. Kalliope was “Porthos” to Cindi’s “d’Artagnan”, an apt me...aphor that had only been possible for her since she read Dumas’ first edition of his iconic classic a hundred fifty years or so ago. Alas, poor “Athos” and “Aramis” had both long since passed away, centuries before Alexandre Dumas was a gleam in his mother’s eye.Traffic was snarled. Horns were honking. Cindi put her friend down. Kalliope straightened her. Dawn had met some buddies in a local bar in her small town in Iowa, and they had just chilled out some, drinking beer and joking around. A terrible band started playing out of key on a stage and after a few dissatisfied murmurs from the crowd she and her friend Trista had got up and danced to liven the joint up. Trista was a good-looking young woman with a shapely slim body and long blonde hair.They were the only ones on the dance floor and were, if not drunk, getting that way. Despite this. " I laughed and she giggled. Like I said, weren't looking for sex tonight, but it appeared it had found us. So we had a few more drinks and laughed about this guy, she went the bar each time and each time he was there. They had got chatting, he'd asked about her wedding ring and been told that hubby was very understanding. My wife fancied a dance, she'd seen this fella and his mates and said she was going to have some fun teasing them and with that she gave me a quick kiss and off she went. She. He looks down at me on my knees and says, "You thought you were done working out for the night, didnt you." What was that suppose to mean? Well I found out soon enough. Before I could even stand back up, he smacking me in the face with this thing. Like I was his girlfriend and he was teasing me. To be honest, it kind of hurt so I grabbed it and asked him wtf he was doing! He said "What do you think YOU'RE doing!? Your hand in on my dick." He was right. I didnt even realize I actually grabbed it.