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Chapter One
Have you ever met someone and thought to yourself, “I could see spending the rest of my life with this person”? My name is Eric Jones, and that’s the way I felt when I first met the wife, almost ten years ago now. Sharon and I were seniors in high school: I had seen her in the halls and I had heard her name mentioned in passing, but I had never really met her. That is, until one day someone spilled a drink at her usual table in the cafeteria and she had to find another seat. There happened to be an empty seat at my table. She spotted it and sat down next to me. We spoke for the first time and within a few moments I knew that this girl could be the one for me.
“Mind if I sit here?” She asked.
I looked over my shoulder and saw her standing there. It was as if my eyes were opened for the first time. She was tall and slender with long, curly, brunette hair tied back in a ponytail. She didn’t appear to be wearing any makeup besides some eyeliner and was just wearing a school T-shirt and some knock-around jeans, but when I looked into her big, doe eyes I felt my heart skip a beat. The little features I hadn’t ever noticed suddenly stood out to me: her high cheekbones; her gorgeous, genuine smile; her long, slender neck leading down to a deceptively shapely figure. She was the girl next door; the beauty you don’t realize has been right under your nose.
“Sure, it’s all yours!” I said, trying to hide my enthusiasm. And the rest was history.
Through the years we shared a lot of firsts: first kiss, first date, first “I love you”, and a lot of other firsts that go without saying. But one first eluded me, and that was the first time having sex. We were both virgins when we started dating, and though things had gotten pretty intense, we never went all the way. She said she was nervous and asked if I would be okay with waiting, possibly until marriage. I told her I was fine with it. I loved her with all of my heart; I was willing to wait for a good thing. I even remember thinking what an angel she was, how perfect and pure she was and that her keeping her virginity just made her more beautiful to me. Maybe that was just my way of coping.
I’m not an unattractive man, but neither of us realized at the time that she was out of my league. Her beauty was so hidden in plain sight that nobody could see it. I, on the other hand, was overweight, much more so than my build would let on. I was tall, but stocky. Everyone thought I was about 200 lbs. but in actuality I was pushing 260. I liked to fool myself into thinking there was muscle on my frame. “Muscle weighs more than fat,” I would think to myself, but deep down I knew that I was just lucky to carry my weight in less noticeable ways.
As our relationship went on, the disparity became more and more apparent to me. She began to experiment with new hairstyles and try new makeup techniques, buying finer clothes. Meanwhile, I continued to gain weight and found myself almost exclusively wearing “comical” T-shirts with cartoon characters and dorky references to Doctor Who and Star Trek. Still, we loved each other and our love went beyond physical attraction.
We stuck together through four years of college. She graduated with honors, studying to become a lawyer. I just squeaked by with a C average, just barely getting my bachelor’s degree in Communications. Around this time it started to become clear to me how much better than me she was in just about every way, and I think she started to notice as well. I made a vow to myself that I would not lose this amazing woman. I had tried for years to make myself a better man. I tried dieting and exercising, I tried to improve my school performance, I tried to find myself a good job, and in all of these respects, I had failed. What I could do, though, was make myself the best boyfriend ever; the kind of guy every woman wishes their man would be. I bought her flowers just because, I took her on expensive dates, and I bought her gifts to let her know how special she was to me. Over time I found myself deriving pleasure from anything I could do to make her happy, I tried to be as selfless as I could. Eventually, I even convinced myself that I was worthy of her. And so, after 7 years I finally asked her for a moment I felt I was worthy of…
“Will you marry me?”
She looked down at the ring as I held it in front of her on bended knee. Then she looked up at me and with tears in her eyes.
“Yes,” she was barely able to articulate, “I will.”
Two weeks later I was still in disbelief at the thought that I had found the most perfect woman and she was now my fiancé, my virgin bride. So you can imagine when I heard my phone go off at work and saw the message…
“We need to talk. ASAP.”
I told my boss I wasn’t feeling well and asked if I could go home early. He said that would be fine and I rushed home as fast as I could to see what was wrong. I was worried that she was going to call the engagement off, so I stopped at the florist on the way home and grabbed a dozen roses, thinking that would somehow guilt her into staying with me. As I went to pull into the driveway I saw there was a truck already there.
The plumber! I thought to myself. I forgot they were going to be coming by today to check on the leak in the basement.
I felt like such an idiot. Of course she wasn’t texting me to tell me she didn’t want to marry me anymore. She probably just has bad news about the cost of fixing the leak. When I walked in the front door I saw her sitting in on the couch in the living room with her legs crossed, reading a book. Looking at her, I finally felt at ease and as I breathed a sigh of relief she looked up at me from her book.
“Honey, what are you doing home so early?”
“I wasn’t feeling very well,” I lied, “so I left work early and thought I’d pick you up some flowers on the way home.”
“Did you get my text?”
“No,” I lied again, “I had my phone turned off.”
“Excuse me.” I heard a man’s voice say behind me. A bit startled, I looked over and it was the plumber standing in the front doorway. “You’re blocking my truck in.”
I was a little blown away when I saw at him. The plumber was about 6’3” with a full head of long, dirty blond hair and a jaw line you could cut your finger on. He was muscular, but not exactly cut. He had the look of a former athlete, and he actually looked a little familiar.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I said to him. “I’ll move my car right away.”
“No big deal.” He said
“So what’s the damage with the basement? Is it bad?”
“I’ll let your fiancée tell you about it.”
Sharon stood up from her seat on the couch came up behind me. She tapped me on the shoulder and when I turned to face her she caught me off guard by planting a big, passionate kiss on my lips. I almost forgot the plumber was standing there, so when the kiss ended I turned toward him and tried to remember my train of thought.
“Oh um, well, what do I owe you for today?”
“Don’t worry; your fiancée already took care of it.”
“Okay then. Well, thanks for coming out.”
“Any time.” He replied with a big grin.
I went out and pulled my care out of the driveway to let him out. He backed out of the driveway and gave a friendly honk as he drove off. I pulled back in and saw Sharon standing in the driveway waving goodbye. Something felt a bit off about the whole series of events, but I thought nothing of it as I went back to the house. I walked in the front door and as I was locking it behind me it hit me: the plumber looked just like the star tight end of our high school football team.
“Hey Sharon, that guy wasn’t Mark Breslin, was it?” I asked as I turned around and saw, to my surprise, that Sharon hadn’t resumed her place on the couch.
“I’m in here, Eric.” I heard her call from the kitchen. I turned the corner and went into the kitchen. She was sitting at the table and motioned to the seat across from her. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
I sat down, worrying what she was about to tell me.
“So what’s wrong with the basement?” I asked, expecting the worst. “Is it going to be an expensive fix?”
“No,” she said, “the basement is fine. Mark saw the problem right away. It was just a leaky pipe. He tightened it up and said it shouldn’t be a problem anymore.”
“Oh, well that’s good news.” I said, relieved. “So that was Mark Breslin?”
“Yeah, apparently he’s been working as a plumber for the past year.”
“Wow, I thought he was going to make it big in the NFL. It’s kind of weird to see him working as a plumber now. Didn’t he get drafted after college?”
“Yeah, by the Cardinals, but he blew out his knees: said he wanted to walk away from the game while he could still walk.”
“Too bad, that’s a lot of money to have to walk away from.”
“Well I guess he did pretty well with what he made. He didn’t make a lot but he took half of what he did make and invested it. He got pretty lucky with a couple of his investments. They ended up being in companies that have patents on some kind of technology in all of the new smart watches. He said he doesn’t really even need to work anymore, so he just does the plumbing to help out his dad with his business.”
“Wow. Good for him.” I guess. “You two must have talked a lot.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.” She said as she looked down at her hands. At that point I noticed that she wasn’t wearing her engagement ring. “While Mark was working on the leak in the basement, I took off my ring earlier to do dishes and it fell down the drain.”
Suddenly I felt dizzy as all of the color drained from my face. The ring wasn’t terribly expensive, but it was all that I could afford. I was working at a call center making minimum wage. I’d had to save for two months just to be able to afford a decent ring, and even then I still had to put some more debt onto my credit card to make sure it had a real diamond. It was already going to be at least a year or two before I could save up enough for our wedding, I couldn’t afford to replace that ring any time soon.
After a pause that felt like an eternity, I asked, “Did you call Mark up here? Was he able to get it out?”
“He did get it out for me.”, she said, much to my relief. “He wanted to check and see if it hadn’t slipped down the drain yet, so he went to flip the switch for the light over the sink and instead he accidentally hit the switch for the garbage disposal. We heard the blades hitting metal for a split second and then the sound stopped before he could turn it off.” I was feeling sick as she explained. “He checked the trap after that and the ring was there, but it had been damaged by the disposal.”
“How bad was it?” I asked, afraid to know the answer.
“It was in pretty bad shape.”
“I can’t believe it.” I said as I sat that stunned, then with a flush of anger, “He ruined your engagement ring!”
“It wasn’t his fault!” She said, very sternly. I was taken aback by how adamant she was. “He felt terrible about it. He said that he’s going to take the ring to a jeweler and have it repaired for us out of his own pocket.”
“Oh,” I replied, not sure how to reconcile my anger with my new feeling of gratitude. “Don’t plumbers have insurance for things like that?”
“Mark said the insurance would only cover so much, and that they would just cut a check for the cash amount. He felt so bad that he insisted on taking care of it personally and bringing it to a great jeweler he knows who can make it as good as new. And on top of that, he’s not going to charge us anything for the fix to the leak in the basement.”
“Well…I guess it’s not so bad then. So the basement leak is fixed for free, and your ring is being repaired for free? We don’t owe any money and everything is going to be as good as new?” I asked, “Actually, it seems like everything worked out for the best. Is there anything else I need to know?”
“No,” she said, glancing over towards the sink, “there’s nothing else.”
Chapter Two
Lying in bed later that night, I had almost forgotten all about the foreboding text message, the leaky basement and the damaged engagement ring. It was Friday night: I could just stay up late in bed and play Candy Crush until I fell asleep. Or maybe there was something else I could be doing…
I looked across the room and could see into the bathroom. Sharon was standing there with her hair tied back in a ponytail, just like how it was when I met her. She was dressed for bed in a pair of pink, cotton panties: her long legs leading up a perfectly curved, firm ass. Above that she had on a white, nearly see-through, tank top with no bra; her nipples poking out ever-so-slightly at the centers of her perky breasts. She had been pale from the winter, but her tan was starting to come back as spring was beginning. In that moment, I wanted her so badly, and from the kiss had given me in front of the plumber, I thought maybe she wanted me too.
We had been going through a bit of a dry spell. Actually, it was more than a bit. We hadn’t had any sort of intimate relations in over three months, but were both in denial over it. We still had not had sex, at this point thinking that we might as well wait until we were married. It had been hard, but I could see the light at the end of the tunnel and I was expecting that when we finally were able to consummate our marriage it would set a spark in our sex life. But looking at her, there, I was ready to break our dry spell. I stealthily slipped out of bed so she wouldn’t take notice of me. She was putting soap on her face as I crept toward the bathroom, and as she bent down to wash the soap off in the sink I slipped behind her and put my left hand on her back.
She tensed up slightly at first, but then relaxed as I slid my hand slowly up her back, gliding up her neck and running my fingers lightly along the base of her hairline. I then slid it down the side of her neck and onto her shoulder, bringing my right hand up to the other shoulder. I gently massaged her shoulders as I felt all tension drain from her body. I applied slightly more pressure to her shoulders and with her slight moans of approval, I could feel my erection growing inside of my shorts. It grew out far enough for the tip to lightly graze her ass. I wanted so badly to be inside of her I could hardly contain myself. With my hands still on her shoulders, I pulled her closer to me so that it came to rest between her buttocks. I released her shoulders and brought my hands down, running my fingertips down either side of her spine, light as a feather, then coming around to her sides and resting on her hips. I grasped her firmly by the hips and pulled her harder against my member, my thumbs massaging the small of her back.
I felt her beginning to shift in order to stand upright. I wanted to put my hand on her back to keep her in that position, pull her panties down and have her right then and there, but instead I slid my hands from her hips and wrapped my arms around her stomach as she stood up. Placing her arms over mine, holding me tightly to her, she pressed her backside against me as she subtly wiggled her hips. She released her grip on me and turned to face me, still in my arms. She looked me in the eyes and kissed me deeply, her full lips pressing hard against mine. She pulled back and I grinned.
“Do you need to brush your teeth first?” I teased.
Then, out of nowhere, she slapped me in the face, causing me to flinch. The slap wasn’t terribly hard, but it wasn’t playful and it was painful. Confused by the stinging in my cheek, I opened my eyes and saw a scowl on her face, which quickly softened into a look of bewilderment, and finally a look of despair as tears welled up in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry.” Sharon cried.
“Why did you slap me?” I asked, puzzled.
“I’m sorry Eric, I didn’t mean to. I just…”
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to talk to you about something.”
At that moment I thought back to the text she had sent me earlier in the day: “We need to talk. ASAP.”
I had assumed that the text was about the leak in the basement at first, later I assumed it was about the engagement ring. Then I realized, we had never actually discussed the text message beyond her asking if I had seen it.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Sharon could barely speak because she was crying so hard, but managed to stop sobbing long enough to say, “Something else happened today. Something I didn’t tell you about.”
“What is it?”
“Earlier today, when Mark was getting the ring out of the drain, he asked me to grab him a wrench from his toolbox. I got the wrench and when I went to give it to him I tripped and fell on top of him and dropped the wrench on his face, and I kept saying ‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’ and he said he was fine and I went to see if it left a mark and I just kind ofkisseditasajoke to make it feel better I guess and then onethingledtoanotherand I’m so sorry!”
She was talking so erratically I struggled to understand what she was saying, but the message came through loud and clear: something happened between her and Mark. What I needed to know was “what?”
“What exactly happened between you two?” I asked, as calmly as I could, though I could feel myself shaking with rage.
“I-I-I’m so sorry!” She cried out again.
“Sharon. I need you to take a deep breath, calm down, and tell me exactly what happened. Take a few moments, compose yourself, and tell me every detail, start-to-finish.”
After a few minutes of her crying and me standing, looking around the room, trying not to look at her, she was able to speak in an intelligible manner.
“I was home, waiting for the plumber to show up and when Mark came to the door I recognized him right away from high school, but I didn’t think he remembered me. After he fixed the basement and came upstairs I told him I remembered him and he said he remembered me too. I was surprised because I was a nobody in high school and he and I never talked, but he remembered me. We were talking and he told me all about his football career and investments and I told him how I’m in law school. He asked if I was seeing anyone and I wasn’t wearing my engagement ring since I was doing dishes so I decided to say I wasn’t seeing anyone. I don’t know why I did It, I guess I just liked getting attention from someone who never would have given me the time of day in high school and I thought if I told him I was engaged he would leave.
“He went to give me his business card and wrote his personal cell number on it and said that if I ever need to get a hold of him for plumbing or, whatever, to give him a call. But then he spotted the ring on the sink and he asked if the ring was mine and I told him I actually was engaged and that I was engaged to you. He was just like ‘oh’, and he left, and I went over to the sink and I went to grab the ring but I dropped it and it went down the drain, so I called him on his cell and asked him if he could come back. So he came back and I told him about the ring and he was flirting a lot because I think he thought I did it on purpose to get him to come back and I was flirting back. Then after the ring went down the drain I got him a wrench from his tool box and he was stretch out under the sink with his abs showing and I got distracted and fell on top of him. The wrench hit his face and I kissed him where it hit and asked if it felt better and he said that it did now and we kissed.”
She stopped after telling me they had kissed, but I could tell there was more she was holding back. I asked her what happened next, and several more minutes of bawling and indecipherable speech ensued before she composed herself again.
“We made out on the floor for a few minutes and things started getting intense. He was running his hands up and down my body and I was feeling all of his muscles. He reached his hand under my shirt and unhooked my bra, and I just couldn’t control myself. I started kissing his stomach and he lifted off his shirt and I kissed his chest. I climbed on top of him and he undid the buttons on my blouse. I was grinding on top of him and I could feel his dick growing so hard in his jeans. I’m…I’m sorry you don’t need to hear all of the details.”
“No,” I said, “I want to hear everything. Tell me exactly what happened, and exactly how it happened.”
I’m not sure why I said it. Maybe it was a morbid curiosity to see how much heartache I could stand, maybe it was because I wanted to know if there were signs of resistance, but if I’m being completely honest with myself, I think it had just been so long since she and I had been that passionate together. It had been three months since we had even come close to doing anything like that, and even before that it had been years since there had been genuine passion in our bedroom. What happened between them was the most erotic thing that had happened in our home in a long time and, God help me, it turned me on in a weird way.
“Okay.” She continued. “He reached his hands down the back of my pants…”
I could see myself there. It was as if I was standing in the kitchen watching them and it was all happening right there in front of me.
Chapter 3
Mark was sitting up on the kitchen floor with Sharon sitting in his lap, her perfect breasts exposed. He reached his hands around her back, sliding them down her pants as far as he could while leaning into her chest, kissing her all over, his tongue dancing around her nipples. Sharon reached down and undid the button and zipper on her pants. With his powerful arms, Mark lifted her up and set her down gently on her back. He got to his knees and grabbed her pants. She arched her back, allowing him to easily slip off her pants and panties off of her supple ass. She then lifted her legs straight in the air and he removed her pants completely, tossing them to the side. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around her neck, pulling herself up to kiss him.
She clung to him as he got to his feet, her body wrapped around him. He carried her effortlessly to the kitchen table and set her down on top of it. She let go and laid back, staring up into his eyes as he kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth. He lightly bit her lip as he pulled away and began kissing her neck, working his way down to her breasts and her stomach. She lifted her head to watch him, and he put a hand on her chest to keep her down. She let her head fall back and stared at the ceiling, Mark’s hand moving to cup her breast and play with her nipple, then she closed her eyes in anticipation as she felt his lips and tongue slowly working their way down between her legs. He kissed her lightly on the left thigh, then the right, then again on the left, working his way slowly toward her clitoris. His bottom lip brushed against her clitoris and Sharon felt a warm, tingling sensation through her whole body. She reached her hands up and ran them along her body, it was as if every touch was amplified tenfold. Mark abruptly pulled away.
“You haven’t shaved for me.” He said in a deep, husky whisper.
“I’m sorry.” Sharon moaned.
“I don’t believe that you are,” he replied, “but you will be.”
Mark put his hands under her arms and lifted her up off of the table and onto her feet. Before she could stand on her own, he quickly turned her around and bent her face-down over the table. She felt such a rush at the way he was manhandling her.
“Tell me you’re sorry!” He yelled.
“I’m sorry!” She cried. She then heard a loud smack and felt a stinging sensation as he brought his hand down swiftly on her ass.
“Why are you sorry?!”
“I’m sorry I didn’t prepare for you.” She cried out, the pain and pleasure coursing through her body simultaneously.
“What are you going to do next time?” He demanded as he spanked her again.
“I’m going to be all clean for you!”
Mark spanked her again, then grabbed a fistful of her hair and lifted her face off of the table.
“How are you going to make it up to me?”
“Any way you want!”
He let go of her hair then slapped her on the ass again, watching her pale ass cheeks turn pink. He grabbed her hair again.
“What I want is for you to tell me how you’re going to make it up to me!”
“I’ll suck your cock!”
She cried tears of joy as he spanked her once more.
“You’re going to have to ask permission first.” He informed her.
“Please, sir! Please let me suck your cock!” She begged.
“Well, that’ll be a good start.”
He stepped back and allowed her off of the table. She turned around and immediately dropped to her knees and unbuttoned his pants. Sliding his jeans down it was the first time she had really gotten an idea of how large he was. She had felt his cock through both of their pants when she was on top of him, but as his pants came off and it was right in front of her face, she could it going down his thigh, almost poking out from the leg of his boxer briefs. It had to have been about ten inches long. She wanted it inside of her so badly, she couldn’t wait to get his underwear off. She put her mouth over his bulging erection through the fabric, feeling the girth of it with her lips, worshipping his cock. She pulled his underwear down and took it by the base with her hand and slid the tip of it into her mouth. She began to slowly stroke it at the base as, inch-by-inch, she took more in her mouth until it was almost at the back of her throat. She had only ever sucked Eric’s dick, and it was nothing like this.
“What do you say?” Mark asked.
Sharon looked up, confused, and pulled his dick out of her mouth. Before she could utter a word, he slapped her across the face. This time, the slap didn’t feel good, the way it had on her ass. This time it just hurt. But for some reason, it made her want him even more.
“I didn’t say stop, slut!” He yelled, elaborating “What do you say to me for letting you suck my cock!?”
Sharon put him back in her mouth and garbled out, “Thank you for letting me suck your cock, sir!”
“You’re welcome.” He said, grabbing her by the back of her head, shoving his cock down her throat until she was gagging. He then pulled her off of it and said, “I think I’m ready to fuck you, now.”
At this point Sharon had a moment of clarity, but the only thought that came through was I’m saving myself for marriage.
“I’ve never been fucked before. I’m a virgin.”
“You mean you’ve never let that loser fiancé of yours fuck you before? Is he a faggot or something?”
“I’m saving myself for marriage.” She said, feeling guilty, but turned on by the way he talked about Eric.
“Bullshit.” Mark said. “Tell me the real reason you haven’t let him fuck you.”
And for the first time, Sharon allowed herself to say it out loud.
“Because I’m not attracted to him.”
“Why aren’t you attracted to him?”
Something happened to her. A look of anger and resentment washed over her face. My high school sweetheart, my perfect angel, the love of my life let all of her feelings about me spill out. Feelings I never knew she had.
“Because he’s a fat fucking slob and he’s a fucking loser. I’m too good for him. If he and I met today, I wouldn’t give him the time of day, but he met me before I knew what I was worth and he latched on. He tries to make up for it by being sweet to me, but I want a man. I want a strong, sexy, powerful man. A successful man who can take charge, who has drive and ambition. A man who makes me wet and who will fuck me all night long! If he was any one of those things I could handle it, but he’s none of them. He’s not even a man!”
Mark paused for a moment, and smiled at her. Sharon was looking down at the floor, he put his hand under her chin and lifted her face so she was looking him in the eye.
“Then I’m going to do you both a favor. I’m not going to take your virginity today. I’m going to let you save your pussy for your wedding night.” He said before grabbing a handful of her hair, once again and turning her away from him. He got down on his knees behind her and shoved her head down, leaving her ass sticking up in the air. He leaned forward and whispered into her ear.
“I’m just going to fuck you in the ass.”
He took his cock in his hand and slid it up and down the outside of her dripping pussy to lubricate it. Sharon wanted him inside of her so badly, but feeling him in her ass would have to do. She eagerly reached back and spread her ass for him. She felt the head of his cock pressing against her, struggling to get through her tight hole. After a moment or two of easing it open, his head began to slide into her, slowly, until she couldn’t take it anymore. She thrust herself back onto his cock and cried out in ecstasy. He began to drive deeper into her ass, until eventually all ten inches of him was inside of her. He started to pull back, slowly, then press forward, gradually thrusting against her. The feeling was so intense, Sharon couldn’t get enough. She reached down and started rubbing her clit and began to press herself against him, she wanted him in deeper. She wanted him to pound her asshole, and he was more than happy to oblige. He picked up the pace, and went faster, and deeper, and faster, and deeper. In and out, in and out. She could feel it. As she rubbed her clit she could feel him inside of her, filling her up, and she felt as she rubbed her clit, the feeling of intense pleasure, the pressure building to a head and then before she knew it an intense feeling of release. He hadn’t even cum yet, but she could feel her own intense orgasm, causing every muscle in her body to convulse and she cried out. Mark waited until her convulsing had stopped before he pulled out of her. He was close to cumming himself, but he held off for the finishing touch.
“You’re not done yet.” He told Sharon.
Immediately, Sharon rose to her knees, turned around and began to suck on his cock. She licked up and down the base of his shaft and took his head into her mouth once more, grabbing his dick with both hands and twisting as she worked the rest with her mouth until she could tell he was ready to explode. Before he could grab her head to shove it down on his cock, she did it herself, reaching around his waist with both arms and driving his cock deep down her throat and spilled his cum all through her mouth. She eased back off after holding onto him for a moment, then swallowed like she knew he would want.
“Good girl.” Mark said as she looked up at him craving his approval. “Now here are your next instructions.”
“Anything, sir.” Sharon said.
“If you want to do this again, if you want to belong to me and me alone, then I want you to tell that faggot Eric you want to talk to him. I want you to tell him everything that happened here. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” She replied, wanting nothing more than to become Mark’s property. Without hesitation she went for her phone and texted Eric.
The two of them got dressed and Mark finished his job, getting the engagement ring out of the trap under the sink. He walked to the front door with the ring in his pocket. Before going out to his van to wait on Eric, he looked over at Sharon on the couch,
“I almost forgot, one more thing.” He said. “You didn’t wash your mouth out, did you?”
“No, sir.” She replied.
“Good. Don’t. I want to see Eric get a good taste of my cum and your asshole.” He said with a malevolent smile. “Because he’s going to have to get used to it.”
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