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Hi. What’s up?” It was Francesca. She was inviting me in as I explained what I was doing there. There was a briefcase and travel bag at the door. “Honey, Sara’s here,” she shouted up the stairs, “she forgot her books this afternoon.” She turned to me and said, “Sweetie you look pooped. Would you like some water, or a glass of juice?” The longer I could stay the better so I accepted her offer. “I’m just having a cup of tea before I head off to the airport. I have a meeting first thing in the morning so I figured it was better to take the last shuttle out.” There was my answer to the bag question and, more importantly, the possibility of another forbidden session. Within a minute there were footsteps on the stairs and Jamie appeared, looking surprised and not a little nervous. After all, there I was talking to his wife in the kitchen just hours after he had shot his sperm into the deepest recesses of my pussy. Francesca ushered me into the sitting room as we both sat down in adjacent. He chased her around the car for two laps while the half-dressed woman in the back seat quietly slipped away and ran toward Bill.Roger stopped on the passenger side of the car, and Chelsea glared at him over the roof."Chelsea, please give me my clothes," Roger said in a calm voice, "and we can talk about this."With one swift move, she opened the door, tossed the clothing inside, and slid behind the wheel. She locked the doors before Roger had a chance to grab the handle. She looked at her husband with mascara staining her cheeks, thrust her middle finger in the air, and drove away with the tires squealing against the pavement. Roger stood in the middle of the parking lot, wearing only a dumbstruck expression."Chelsea, you fucking bitch! Get back here!" he screamed in a high-pitched voice and hopping up and down with one of his hands still covering his genitals.For the first time, Roger seemed to notice Bill. It took him a moment to process who it was, and another moment to realize.
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