Carter. what time do you get out? i asked, wanting to reach down and start massaging my pussy through my jeans. my husband turned me on in ways i neve... imagined possible. 5, do you want to go out for dinner? i smirked, no, i want to eat at home. i have an idea of what we can do for dinner. i like the sound of that mrs. carter, mmmm i want you so bad. so drive fast.. after we hung up, i glanced up at the clock. 4:30pm. i had about half an hour before he was even leaving work. i put food in the. Ididn't even look in the mirror at the scar on my breast. It wasn'trelevant anymore. I wouldn't be defined by it.I thought about the pool guy taking my lingerie, and realised that, eventhough he would be punished, he had actually helped set me free. I feltempowered again, possessed of a strength and independence I hadn'texperienced in over a year.I couldn't go out yet. Not out into the city. But I would be moreadventurous and daring than I had in months. I refused to be a prisonerto the past.I. More

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