On the back: “Make sure you got everything out of the envelope, then go 50 yards due east to the light pole. I want your finger instead of mine!” ... re-checked the envelope. A key card for a hotel. The Comfort Inn. I sprinted the 50 yards. This envelope was small. A small piece of paper inside: “1145 S. Jefferson St. Room 337. I am waiting for you” That hotel was only about 6-7 blocks away, so it was only 10 minutes later I was exiting the elevator on the third floor. In my haste I mis-read the. As I was plating the food, Mike came out and sat at the table. I served us, pouring us both more wine. I am a good cook, and he obviously enjoyed the meal. I asked him how his workout had gone, how much he’d lifted, how many miles he’d run … all the sorts of things an interested wife would ask her husband. As I spoke, I smelled his fresh clean scent, a hint of Irish Spring soap and Suave strawberry shampoo. He didn’t usually wear cologne, but I swear I smelled something musky, and I imagined it. ” Once I could, I returned the favour, scooting around so that I too could taste our juices and lick them off of him. I was as thorough as he had been, as eager not to miss a single drop. More than that though, this was my first chance to smell him, to taste him, to discover his textures, and I did it with abandon. I was intimately acquainted with his recuperative ability, and wasn’t surprised when his tired cock started perking up a little during my thorough cleaning. I had a secret in my. They all knew that I had been a successful stagecoach shotgun guard and that I was now a successful bounty hunter. That proved my bravery, and that was important to these women who lived so close to danger themselves.Anyway, I had time to talk to nine young women before the social was over, and I would pick up the rest of them the next Sunday. Martha was quite pleased with the way things had gone that day, and she expected to have me meet the remaining eight women next time. No, there were not.
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