“What makes you think I don't have a typewriter at home?” he followed up. “Maybe I'm old fashioned.”“Nah, I don't think so” she replied as...the suds slid off her freshly washed form. “You don't give off that vibe.” She reached out and shut off the water before turning to him. “Besides, I've read every interview you've ever given. You never mentioned a typewriter.”Jack froze in place as her eyes locked on him. For the first time, he wondered if the joke he'd cracked to his wife before leaving the. ‘How the hell has this happened?’ her mind asks the question. She thinks she could fuck him right here, now, he has affected her so. No sooner did she think this, a hand moves from her ass to turn her head to whisper against her ear ‘I could strip you and fuck you right here, Pamela.’ Her mouth goes dry and she feels another surge of wet. Her breath coming faster, she pulls away to look up at him. Left brain logic and right brain impulsiveness battling each other as she looks into his dark. More

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