I am willing myself to relax my throat. Urging myself to take it all, knowing that not many have probably ever done that before. “Uhhh that’s so ...ood Mrs. C. I love feeding you, starved for attention, starved for cock. I am in heaven watching you.” Then you hear my husband again, “Hon? Did you buy snacks?” “Fuck. Can’t he do anything for himself?” I begin stroking you as I call downstairs. “I put some on a tray in the fridge honey.” A grin crosses my lips as I look at you and take you back. While grumbling he wondered, who the hell did she think he was, standing here waiting in the appointed spot holding a heavy and expensive video camera in his hand? ‘Yeah, that’s me. You’re two hours late.’ Her smile disappeared. ‘I’m sorry. It couldn’t be helped. Some of the girls…’ ‘I don’t give a damn,’ he interrupted. That was the problem with the TV business, she thought, no one really gave a damn about anyone or anything. She had stayed up until two a.m. listening to a long sob story from. More

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