She snapped her fingers: I snapped from my reverie.“Hand me a towel, bitch!”Timidly I looked around. I’d rather hoped she might compliment me on...my appearance, rather than calling me a bitch, but there you were – or rather, there I was. I looked round in panic: there was no towel in the bathroom. She sighed, rolling her eyes upwards.“Try the chest of drawers between the beds.”“Okay.”“Don’t you mean – yes mistress?” she snapped.“Y-yes mistress,” I stammered.She laughed, cruelly.“I should make. Reaching down for her thong bikini, she loosens the strings, pulls the fabric away to reveal her now glistening slit. She casually tosses the bikini bottoms next to her top on the pool deck. For a moment, I find it hard to believe my wife's not wearing her swim suit; its lying limply on the deck instead. I realize just how little fabric there was covering her luscious body. Rick exclaimed, "Damn, Evelyn, what a fucking hot body you have! Damn, John, you are a lucky man!" Evelyn blushes, "Thank. More

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