BRUNETTES VERY PERFECT PUSSY IS FUCKED.

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I looked at her as we walked to her car. Oh, I understood, and I agreed. I wanted to stay married to my wife pussy joke, I didn want an affair. By now we were beside her car. "And Ill remember you," I affirmed. Our lips brushed, I watched her get into her car, and closed the door for her. The engine started, her window powered down. Her car pulled pussy joke away, and pussy joke out. She was pussy joke gone pussy joke - such a short time, such a huge void, a huge ache. Were those pussy joke tears on my cheeks?
 
 
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I started walking down the ramp, to get to the outside parking lot and my own car. I wanted to get to my office for a while, to let the emotions subside, and regain an equilibrium before going home. Around pussy joke the turn, just another row of cars, then Id be outside. I know I was distracted. My head was in a different place, but pussy joke something made me turn, to look again at pussy joke an image that I nearly ignored. I stopped, and walked toward the car parked in the corner.
 
   
   
  Barbaras car! She went pussy joke back pussy joke to Boston for the evening. Why pussy joke was her car here? A car pool? I ran down pussy joke the ramp to my car, and drove back into the garage, parking beside a van, hidden. An hour later I saw two shadows move to her car. The shadows merged for a long time, and separated again. The interior light came on, and I saw Barbara slide onto the seat car. The light started its dimming cycle, but not so soon that I didn see her window lower, and the outside shadow bend down, to meet her as the light finally extinguished, leaving only the dim garage lighting.
 
 
   
  A moment later her headlights came on, and she drove down the ramp. The shadow, now more defined, walked to a car a few pussy joke spaces away, his remote pussy joke flashing the lights and unlocking it. He pussy joke pulled out, and I followed, behind a Mercedes with an MD plate I recognized. Chief of Surgery. A man I knew well, he and his wife, a man I thought I knew to be in a happy marriage - like I was?
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Like I was? Like Barbara was? Like Rachel? A fling? Oh, God, I hoped so. I drove home, getting there before Barbara. I was in the shower when she pushed open the bathroom door. A few minutes later she was in bed with me. "Did you pussy joke get done whatever was pressuring you at the office? Was it worth the pussy joke extra hours?" she asked pussy joke. "I agree, its not worth the hassle," she said, rolling over so her back was toward me, then moving closer, cuddling against me, nesting like spoons do, holding my hands against her breasts, my hands that pussy joke were on pussy joke other breasts just a short time ago, on her breasts that pussy joke were held by other hands, at the same hotel.
 


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