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“Actually. Know what? Don't do that-- not until I get back, OK?" She favored me with another little smile. "You guys go be you." And she was gone. My attention returned wholly to the action in my seat. drunk on her, inflamed, dizzy and raging, I grabbed a handful of Diana's hair and forcibly pulled her up out of my lap. Her mouth was still open and saliva coated her lips and chin, and she still panted for the shiny, quivering thing jutting out of my jeans, eyes flashing from it to me and back. It felt a little like removing a rabid a****l from its nest or something-- she was wild for it, fierce and defiant and even a little dangerous. She resisted me; I had to be pulling her hair hard enough to hurt, but I knew she would have gone right back down there in a heartbeat if I relaxed my grip even the tiniest bit. I somehow knew she wanted it to be like this, but her making me manhandle her was bringing out something dark, something buried deep inside me. I wanted her like. It was a novel idea and he decided that he would ask his wife to do it at home. He had definitely appreciated the way she looked tonight.“All of this formal stuff is just to help us to treat each other nicely. We say please and thank you. It allows us to talk about our day without feeling like we are going to get insulted.”“I guess I can see how that would be,” Jack said. He wasn’t really insulted at home. It was just that his opinion was ignored.“Before we started doing this, we didn’t talk to each other at all. Harry had his learner’s permit for two months before I found out. He’d been trying to ask me to take him driving and I’d never given him the chance to ask. Boy, did I feel like shit when I found out.”Hearing that, Jack was surprised that Harry even talked to his father. Shaking his head, he said, “I bet you did. I’m surprised Harry even talks with you.”“Same here,” Greg admitted. He had a feeling that a day of reckoning was still on the horizon. It was his hope that he’d.
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