Gil never wears a wedding ring. This could be double trouble, I thought. But I was too preoccupied with what was going on under the table to bring Gil...back into line. A small foot was persistently rubbing the inside of my leg. Why didn't I say something, "Gil, show everyone a picture of your kids." Why didn't I produce photos of my own kids and pass them around the table? I could have mentioned our wives' names in conversation. But none of these schemes entered my mind at the time.Jen came to a. Up an inch, down, up then down, as my body lurched from the hard thrust from behind me.My hands pressed to the wall, clutching the edges of the bricks as if I prevent my falling if he let go of me. I feel my pants and panties bunched around my ankles. The man’s knees pressed into the back of mine, the roughness grinding into my own knees touching that rough brick, all the while her pumped into me.His long, hard strokes sent agonizing shards through my guts, like shards of glass cutting along. More

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