luvminisnheels: My heart was in my mouth as I met him for the first time when he rang our bell. I in
luvminisnheels: My heart was in my mouth as I met him for the first time when he rang our bell. I invited her boss in to our home, shook his hand weakly, offered him a drink. I could feel my masculinity leaving looking at this perfect guy, a guy I know will sweep my wife off her feet. Look, he has already asked her on a date, bought her the pink dress, hired a limo, taking her to the Nutcracker Ballet in DC. How do I compete? As my wife enters the room I am standing aside, she walks up and kisses him, hugs him, asks if he has met her husband. She has her small camera in her hand and asks me to please grab a few pictures of them before they leave, something to frame and put on their office desks. Seeing her lean in to him, seeing his hand slide down to her firm ass, watching as she kisses him like lovers do. I feel so belittled, so dehumanized as I mechanically take pictures, even suggest a pose with her leg up and him holding it behind her knee although he does let is slide up her thigh under her skirt just as I snap the picture. I cannot understand why my heart is racing, my little man is rock hard, and I am so close to tears as I watch them leave through the door, she flips her hair and says don’t wait up, we may change our plans at last minute. I wake to hear them stumble in the door at 4am. She invites him in. I sneak a look up the basement stairs from my room where she told me to sleep tonight. They are making out like two horny teenagers on the couch, no pretense to keep down the noise. -- source link
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