Yesterday (or was it Wednesday? she couldn’t remember, exactly) he had texted her the address of this place, this motel, this sad little remnant of ...appier, more profitable days, days before the highway was built and caused the lifeblood of this town to speed through at 60 miles per hour. He had specified in the text message what she was to be wearing and how she was to be wearing it, and she had complied. Smoothing out the wrinkles in the black silk shift dress now, she wondered about his. ‘I leaned back against his chest and gave him my tits. I told him I would bite his neck when I wanted him to stop.’ ‘You loved it, didn’t you? You always love having your nips played with.’ ‘Yes, you know I did. I do love being turned on like that. I timed him using the clock on his desk. I let him feel me up, pinch and twist for five minutes. I kept telling him harder.’ Laura stopped her tale long enough to kiss her husband. ‘Finally, I bit his neck and turned around.’ ‘He sucked you, didn’t. More

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