Now, however, a strange yearning drove me on. One that I feared, yet had to explore. I had to know. Was I a slut? Am I a slut. To be used by men for t...eir enjoyment. I had to laugh, for I suddenly realized that this latter part was my marriage: Being used by hubby. The selfish bastard.KMart was coming back into view. Driving more carefully, more attentively, I switched lanes. The centre. The right. The turn lane.Fear gripped me.A quick glance over my left shoulder, a mighty jerk on the steering. “Yeah, I know. I just like to get a rise out of ya.” I half-heartedly smacked him again. But his comment made me feel mischievous, so I let my hand drop to just to one side of his crotch on his upper thigh. I heard him breathe in a little, but he didn’t say anything.“Hmmm… you like to get a rise out of me, huh?” I asked in a soft and what I certainly hoped sounded like a sexy voice, but probably resembled the croaking of a chain-smoking frog instead. But he didn’t care, because my hand had. More

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