I never did stop thinking of that man. Two weeks had gone by and all I could do was think of him. Think of the humiliation. Think of the pain. Think o... the "what ifs" if I'd... If I'd what? There I go again. Thinking about that overbearing excuse of a man and what it'd be like to continue allowing him to do... Do what? Make me feel like a slut? To make me shed my prudish mien? To force me to see myself as something sexual? Something other than a baby-making, frumpy old housewife?Panic crept in. If I get a break or something I will try. Got to go babe. Love you.” Then she hung up the phone.I sat at my desk staring at my phone. My face was white and my cock was rock hard.The receptionist came into my office and asked “Ok, who died? Is your wife ok? Has someone been diagnosed with cancer? Come on, tell me something here. I am worried about you.”Shaking my head, I looked at her and said, “No nothing like that. I just made a really bad decision and now I have to live with it. It is going. More

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