And ofcourse women who didn't really fall into any of those categories, theywere taken less serious.At lunchtime I went for a walk, and sat on a park ...ench in the wintrysun and ate my miserable soggy sandwiches. I thought inevitably aboutthe recent events. How could my wife cheat on me like that, it was sohurtful.A lovely lady about my age walked past, she was about my build, a tinybit shorter, and really well dressed, elegant, assured, relaxed andobviously contented with her life. She smiled,. I continued to stand, facing the living room wall with my hands on my head as they discussed my behaviour. I kept my eyes closed and tried to take my mind off my throbbing cock that was almost touching the cold radiator on the wall in front of me. I also tried to avoid thinking about Mrs. Bolton, who was sat on the armchair that was just behind where I stood.“So, Sylvia. What is this long-standing issue that you have with my 'nephew', Peter?” she spoke quietly before taking a sip of wine from. More

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