"You're quitting cheerleading?" Patrick asked."Dude, why don't you go fuckin' skate or die?" Michelle said."What are you, her bodyguard? Or her girlf...iend?" You're sick, dude." Do you munch her carpet and stuff?"Michelle was blushing now and I'm pretty sure I was, too. She tried topush Patrick's leg, but he just stepped back. We both liked Patrick, butsometimes he really took shit too far, plus it was still supposed to beNational Be Mean to Patrick Day. He seemed to sense something. 20 minutes went by. My own level of tension dropped. Now no nerves, no sick feeling. I had cum. My cock was still hard. But the tension had eased to be replaced with a feeling more of curiosity as to what was going on as opposed to an overwhelming need to know every detail. After about 20 minutes my phone pinged, a single image told me they were finished. My wife lay on the bed, covered in sweat, her cheeks flushed, she looked spent, exhausted. She held one hand up towards the camera, hiding. More

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