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A figure rose from the shadowed corner chair. Its steps brought it into the dim candle lit bedside area. It was Belinda, of course. She wore nothing. ...er drape of soft brunette tresses tickled her shoulders. Her lips were frosted fire-engine red. In Belinda’s hand was a foot long black wand, thick as her finger with a red rubber tip, looking like an oversized black pencil with eraser. Ned blinked his eyes to clear his vision, assuming he was dreaming. Looking again, she was still there. Belinda. I pulled into my driveway and just let it all out, marveling at how only twenty minutes ago I was telling Steve how I would enjoy the beautiful experience for as long as I could, little realizing that it would be over within minutes.And it was over, I decided. It had to be. I wouldn't have been crying so hard if it wasn't. Part of me was trying to let go, trying to heal, trying to wake up from the dream. I cried like a little boy for over ten minutes until finally winding down to sad little. He looked once again at her bare arms and then down at her bare legs knowing that, if she spanked him, he would be lying across those fabulous thighs and was moving very quickly to accepting Hannah’s demand.Hannah saw that Jack was once again ogling her arms and legs, although, interestingly, not her breasts which is what most men looked at. They were very shapely after all. Jack’s attention was quickly diverted again when Hannah had clicked her fingers, and he said an immediate, “Sorry,. " No. We sorted that out for certain. We like each other, and I have great faith that we will become lovers and great friends in a short time. She is not compromising, and neither am I. We look forward to this and seeing what it'll be like. You should too. You get both of us. We all get each other." But how will you feel if I choose to go off and make love with Marjorie? What if she comes home and you and I are in bed together making love? I could lay out dozens of other potentially awkward.
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