?Yeah, Mr. Tough Guy? Think you can last five minutes in that maniac’s torture room? You’d be pissing your pants while they’re stringing you up....I’m taking in some sights. Meet you at the palace at seven, like on the invitation.?He walks toward me and pushes me against the wall roughly. ?If you think I’m letting you walk straight into his arms?.? He leans toward me, wanting something: A kiss. A word of comfort. A smile.I knee him in the balls instead and bat him away.?One of us has gotta serve. Sometimes Thomas would lose his lip-grip on my cunt. Two or three times, Robert would pull out, and when that happened, Thomas's beautiful mouth would lose me. Then Robert would stick his dick back into me and Thomas would again find some part of me to kiss, suck or lick. My husband is no light-weight. He bragged once that his dick was in the seventy-fifth percentile for length and sixtieth for girth. His dick is as big and long as my imaginary Lance. The smoke made me imagine Lance was. More

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