Closing my eyes, I fantasized, like I always did, of my late husband, the perfect man who left me way too soon. He understood my submissive nature in ...he bedroom, the polar opposite of my personality in public, where I was in charge and a no-nonsense woman. A feminist in most people's eyes. I imagined myself on all fours, the way he usually fucked me, so he could fuck whichever hole suited his fancy, as when we were alone and intimate he treated me like the slut I craved to be; yet, in public. I could feel her shaking—or I was shaking. I couldn't tell which. She scrunched up her eyes and gasped and I felt a warm flood in my pants.Shit! I just came in my pants! And by the looks of it, so did Gloria.She let go of my hands but didn't take them off her breasts."Better than clay?" she asked. I looked down at the spreading wet spot in my jeans and nodded. As I looked up I saw that she had a wet spot on her crotch as well. Gloria pulled her cell phone from a back pocket and dialed. "It's. More

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