I could tell that he did that often enough before to other women. But the experience he had with this was exactly what it made so sexy. I totally concentrated on what he did to me. I forgot everything around me: where I was, who it was who made such great love to me and how deep we were stuck in this shit.I let him recover on top of me with his semi-hard cock still buried in my pussy for several minutes. Until he started to really keep me from catching breath. He slipped out of me and uncuffed my wrists. I didn't need to say a word. He looked with a pleasant smile on his lips down to me and gave me a gentle kiss. He laid down right beside me and I curled up in his arms and almost fell immediately into a deep recovering sleep.I woke up several hours later - not knowing what time or date it was and where I was. The other side of the bed was empty but still warm - James must have just gotten up. I looked at the clock and noticed that it was past 7 p.m. My stomach told me that I haven't. Bitch sounded concerned. ‘No, I am not okay!’ I barked, turning my face into the sofa. There was a silence, then, ‘Okay, I’ll tell everyone you’re feeling poorly.’ ‘You do that,’ I snapped. I heard her pause, and then ascend the stairs. After the car drove off, I went upstairs and fixed a meager dinner, spaghetti if I recall, I ate, watched TV, played a computer game or three, and then, as I heard the car enter the garage, I slipped back downstairs and settled onto the couch. An hour later, Sally came downstairs. I made no move to acknowledge her. She placed her hand on my head, rubbing lightly, I flung it away, still unable to deal with what I knew. She rose silently, and went upstairs. ++++++ The next week was very tense. I said as little as possible to Sally, I responded to her attempts at conversation with monosyllabic grunts. The children seemed uneasy, and yet unable to place a finger on the problem. I turned the problem over in my head again and again, allowing it to percolate.
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