Marge was the type of woman who could tell you what it felt like when she got her dick sucked. Add that to her grating, over modulated, voice and you ...et the picture. I hated Marge with a passion. Just as I was thinking it, the bitch looked across the deck and smiled at me. I swear that whore was psychic.I made my way over to the table where the other woman sat. Although I dearly love my wife, this woman was beautiful. She was slender with largish breasts and long tanned legs that she showed. "Mae was suddenly alert. "There was an accident in the parking lot? Ihadn't heard a crash. Was anyone hurt?" No, not that kind of accident. Bobby stepped into a pothole and woundup with a twisted ankle." Bobby? You mean Irene's son? Where is he?"I shyly raised my hand. "Right here."Mae looked me up and down once, and then studied the computer monitorand tapped at her keyboard for a couple of seconds. "Sorry about that,honey. I think we've got everything straightened out. Just have a seatand. More

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