She has convinced me that it is easy to lose yourself in the moment. How do I know you’ll survive? When you get home, will you still want me? And wh...t about me? My urges. Not a night goes by that I don’t long for your tender touch. On a couple of occasions I’ve even found myself lying in bed thinking of you, only to discover that I’ve touched myself. Put my finger inside. Am I allowed to do that, since you caved in to your baser instincts? Am I allowed to go farther? February 2 nd , 1942 Jane. Mitch, the husband of the couple, came to get me around five pm. He stands six-three, has a tall, muscular, tanned body. He’s eye candy with his salt-n-pepper hair, strong chin, and green-eyes. He also knows how to treat me like a lady out of bed, and a naughty slut when in bed. He usually wears shorts and t-shirt, but what most people don't know is he never wears underwear. Sandy his wife is taller than me, I’m five-foot-three, and she is five-eleven. Her blonde hair cascaded in ringlets. More

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