The next night, after dinner, my wife had my computer out on the kitchen table. As I did the dishes, Isaw over her shoulder that she was looking at my...Tumblr account again. She kept one hand in herlap at all time as she scrolled down page after page.Suddenly, she yelled, “What the fuck is this? Is that a picture of me? Did your fuckin' put a picture ofme on the internet?”I had. It was only a cropped picture of her great tits, but it was her. There was no way anyone couldtell who it was. I was. ” He let me in the back door of a black limousine. A tasteful sedan, not one of those tricked-out stretch limo. Sitting in the back seat was my handsome and distinguished paramour, impeccably dressed in a sport coat, trousers, dress shirt, and a silk tie. He barely let out a squeal before we locked into a rapturous embrace. Our urgent lips crashed into each other, breaking like the wild waves of a seawall in a wind-swept thunderstorm. Our tongues entwined like our arms and hands that sought to. More

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