I poured another couple of shots of Wild Turkey and tossed them down fast and straight. It didn't help. My mind was still awash with images of my wife... naked on the bed, breasts sweaty and bouncing as she pumped a thick dildo in and out of her red-fringed pussy. I could almost smell her musk on my lips again, even after three years. But the aroma in my nose wasn't her musk. It was cinnamon and vanilla, and the face on the woman in my vision wasn't Janet's, it was Martha's.I left the study,. It clearly showed the number plate. I tried that. Lo and behold the password file opened. Very kindly he had labelled every password, including his bank account. I was tempted to empty it, but thought doing so might draw too much attention.What really provoked me, though, were the photos he had of a number of the sex parties they had held. Further probing revealed some video clips. At first I didn't have the stomach to view the all the photos and video. After a few more weeks of anger and. More

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