The other part of my brain was telling me that if I'd already made this much of a jackass out of myself, how much worse could it be? In the end, I cou...dn't refute that kind of logic, so I didn't run away.I don't know what I expected. Maybe I was thinking that once I whipped out my trusty (HA!) cover story that I'd waltz out of the store looking like, I don't know, Jennifer Aniston? (Although Jennifer Love Hewitt is more my color and type). What I didn't expect was to receive the third degree. Alan smiled. “I have three at the moment,” he replied. “Two are pretty regular and the one is about once a month.” “Polly is one of the regular ones,” Sandy commented. Alan smiled,”Very!” Bill shifted uncomfortably. “And if Bill agreed would I be a regular?” Sandy asked him. “I would certainly hope so.” Bill noticed the look between the two of them. It was clear that they fancied each other. He could feel the chemistry between them. It should be hurting him more than it was doing; knowing. Friend? She was more than that. Lover? Yes. Concubine? I am not a king. Personal slut? Andy was not at all slutty unless I told her to be.I knew Andy remembered my proposal of marriage on the streets of San Francisco when a movie star and I got in a bidding war for her services as she game-played as a hooker. Fianc, then? Andy had told me she did not need a piece of paper to belong to me, that the proposal was enough for her. Sweetheart? That is what she called me. It was a nice, old-fashioned. She sunk her nails into my rear and gripped a handful of flesh. I thought for sure she had broken the skin as heat around her grip began to build. Just as I was about to cry out she released her grasp and with her palm smacked hard where it had just been. I barked. She spanked the spot again and I barked again. Thats right, bitch. Yell for me, yell for your mama. As she taunted her fingers gyrated inside me, almost in rhythm with her words. With each spanking her fingers seemed to match the.
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