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I had never felt so dirty. I put on a robe before exiting. He hadn’t said I couldn’t. I checked on Donald. He was still asleep, looking very much at peace. I almost couldn’t enter Stace’s room.“It’s okay, Mom. You’re protecting me.” Stace used my words against me.“I couldn’t stop him from shaming me in front of you.” I wept.“I’d rather see that than still be tied up.” The bitterness in her voice bit me.I left her, to crawl in next to Donald. I hugged his limp body for comfort he couldn’t give.Terry found us together. He untied my husband and shook him awake. “Huh? I’m so sleepy.”“Feeling any pain, Pal?” Terry grinned.I scooted back and curled into a fetal ball, watching this horrid man destroy my husband.“I know what this is, you bastard. I tried it in high school.”“Yeah, well this time it’s gonna take.” He came around to my side of the bed and sank one knee into the mattress. It depressed several inches from his weight. “God, I hate beds.” He sank his other knee on the bed and had. "And what sort of work do you do, Mister …?" "It's Johnson, but please call me Stephen. Stephen Johnson," I said holding out my hand. She grabbed it firmly as I continued to answer her question. "I'm in construction and down here consulting on a project at the airport." "I'm Julie. Nice to meet you, Stephen," she replied as she let go of my hand. Her champagne arrived, and she lifted her glass to me. "Cheers!" "Cheers! So what brings you to Sydney, Julie?" “Just a work conference.” “So are you a gambler, Stephen?” “I’ve been known to have a flutter every now and then. Why?” "If you can guess what colour panties I'm wearing, I'll give you the best blow job you have ever had. I'll give you three guesses. If you can't get it right, you have to buy a bottle of their best champagne." I looked at the beautiful woman seated here in front of me and I could not believe what she had just so calmly said. Was she serious? I looked directly at her and could instantly tell she was..
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‘Tess, these are my friends.’ Eight slightly drunk women looked at me with disinterest and, without saying anything to me, they began making their way up the stairs. I followed and the hostess was pretty quick with seating us. I sat a few seats down from Tess and a round of cocktails was ordered. It took what seemed like twenty minutes for the waiter to get our order and I notice that most of the women have ordered a salad. I look at the waiter in sympathy. They reserved an eight o’clock table for ten on a Saturday night and they not only showed up late but were only ordering low-priced salads at a renowned rib place. For the waiter’s sake, I hoped they would pad the bill with booze, but for my sake, I hoped the women slowed it down on the drinking. The waiters and porters brought out the salads and my half slab of ribs. I had ordered ribs because that’s what you do when you go to the Montgomery Inn Boathouse. Most of the woman were finished quickly even though it seemed like none of.

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