It was his money which bought the perks of Stanford, Porsche, fine wine, epicurean food and majestic hotels with views which were so enchanting. These...had nothing to do with elegant urbanity. It was just money, his moneyI haven’t forgiven Paul or myself. I limped on. He too changed me. I blamed him but it was me who initially flirted. I didn’t have to grovel to his commands. Like the ping pong paddled software executive, it was something in me which sought debasement. It was penance of a sort. "After a minute or so he pulled her head away, and looked down at her with stern eyes."What are you?'"I'm your little bitch, I'm whatever you want."“Like that cock huh?”“Yes, I fuckin’ love your cock!”“That’s good.”She started to say something.“Shh. You open your mouth when I tell you too. You sucked any dick besides mine today?" No. Let me have it again." Stand up fuck slut, you can kiss me, bitch.”She was quivering, and was on him like a dog on a bone. That’s what she was, a bitch in an. 'Sure, definitely, come in', he offered, standing aside as we walked into his apartment.I looked at Joanne, she was simply glowing, she was a different person, not only enjoying her new found freedom, but flouting it, and as he walked in behind us and passed us I noticed his hand brush her against flesh, and she made no gesture to acknowledge he had touched her.Coffee poured I explained why we were doing what we did, and he surprisingly said, 'Joanne, I cannot see your Cunt'.Joanne was sitting. I haven’t felt like cooking. After 20 years of…’ a sob broke her voice. He put his arms around her, burying her face in his shoulder, noticing how nicely she fit there. She leaned back after a moment, and patted his chest. ‘I hope your shirt is waterproof. I’ve been doing a lot of that these past few months.’ ‘Actually, it’s a living thing and needs water regularly, so whenever you feel the need, go right ahead.’ He led her out of the concourse area toward the food court. She laughed. ‘I had.
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