" Anytime I would start to make gaging sounds, he would hold my head down hard. Finally he let go and I backed my head away from his crotch. "That's m... good bitch. Tell me you're my good bitch." Coughing, I fought to say the words. "I'm your good bitch." He grabbed under my arms and stood me up, placing my hands on the bed as he was cupping and shaking my boobs as he kissed my neck. His hands migrated to my shorts. He stuck his thumb in the sides and pulled them down, along with my panties in. After that, Simone—the redhead—and I were on a path that was to end in a wedding, and it came only a year later. Right at the end of her first year of medical school.My wife was older in years and more mature in career, but she was my junior in worldly experience. Her medical degree, my law degree, and two kids later, she was physician of the year. A designation that my pediatric surgeon wife had earned by spending the prior year with Doctors Without Borders (Médecins Sans Frontières).From the. More

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