Unfortunately, that's all I have to show for my hard work. Money, and the by-products of money. Nothing else. No husband. No k**s. Not even a steady g...y. Just a nice apartment, a Jag sedan, and a great wardrobe. Sounds great, doesn't it, but it isn't. It just isn't enough. I need sex, and lots of it, and when I get horny, I don't want some politically correct suit to fuck me. I want a real man. Or group of men. You know the type. Construction workers. Truck drivers. Bikers. Guys who know how to. Well - that night on coming home after work, my wife Pauline said that Dianne had rung and she invited her over for dinner. As i said before pauline was aware of infatuation with Dianne but said nothing as it had been a long time relationship.Dianne arrived for dinner - dressed to kill - wow - she wore a tight cotton top that left very little to one imagination, her silk bra was outlined and her nipples stood perfectly erect - even Paulline admitted later she couldnt keep her eyes of them. My. More

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