. my husband. Worse, this man, this monstermessed with my head, made me believe a bunch of reallymessed up stuff. I'm talking Charles Manson stuff. A ...oundlike that doesn't heal easily," I confess to the namelesswoman."That's a good story," she says.A subtle tone in her voice says she doesn't believe me."Yeah, well... it's my life, whether I like it or not," Itell her."I think it's the life you could accept," she retorts."So, I engineered my life to be this messed up?" I askrhetorically."You. Or you could just bend me over the couch arm..." Nothing on the couch?" It'd probably be crowded, big as I am," Beth replied. "We could toss cushions on the floor..." While they discussed things, her hand continued to move on his wet meat, sliding his foreskin back and forth, keeping him stimulated almost automatically."Let's do that then."Beth struggled up off her knees, then gave Lon a hand up. Lon snagged a cushion and tossed it off to his left, clearing the coffee table; Beth collected the. More

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