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"Try to whisper your daughter now, Your Majesty," I directed him."Lasahn?" the old man spoke aloud, not necessary for a whisper spell but convenient for us. "Lasahn! Thank the Gods! I can hear her!"Alladin cheered, and I quickly hushed him."Ask her where she is," I suggested. The King seemed sluggish and tired, but he picked up on the idea."Where are you, my Little Punkin?" the King seemed close to tears."Little Punkin?" Blaster whispered to me. I hushed him, too"I'm sorry," the King announced. "She does not know her location. She says it is dark and smells like death."Is she in a pit or a cell? Is she chained?" Blaster wanted to know, and the King tried to ask questions that would elicit more information.I stepped aside for a moment and cast my own whisper, "Pteri? Are you busy?" Just finishing a class, Dear," the words appeared in my mind with my wife's voice."I need you here; we are out of ideas," I replied. "Can you use your love ring? I am certain we don't have much time."A clap. . Ferragamo . . . Missoni . . . Pucci . . . Frissell . . . Capucci . . .’God! I was losing her.Caution to the winds, I hurled myself upon that glorious pelt, rummaging with my tongue until I found entry to the moist fecundity I cherished. Staying my eagerness (and prolonged hunger), I gently licked her clit, kissed around it, teasing, touching, sucking.Her hips moved.Sweet Mother of Christ: HER HIPS MOVED. The last time was in the gynecologist’s chair two years ago when the speculum was chilly.As I opened my fly, Squoot’s foot dove in, weaving a tango with my cock. Humping her toes, I redoubled my efforts to the north.I must be with an imposter. Hey, what the fuck? A fuck is a fuck.Jesus, not only was her cunt accepting, it was getting moist – I once thought Moses cursed it the same time he parted the Red Sea. Now it was ready to grow oranges in Israel.I humped, I licked, I sucked, I lapped. Squoot seemed to be responding. I wanted to run to the window and look for a new.
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Her office and my editor didn't need to know whether we were working every minute or whether during our breaks, and sometimes most of the afternoon, I had her bent over the kitchen table as I fucked her, or she rode me outside by the pool. No, they didn't need to know that at all, and we never told them. Of course, by now you can guess that we weren't too disappointed on those times when we had an audience of Julie, or Stephanie, or both of them.That day, however, we really had to get stuff done, so we were out and about, separate cars, unfortunately, doing our best to contribute to the local smog and general global warming. Or "climate change," as if that somehow sounded better. Of course, that side of the political spectrum had been selling snake oil for years, and doing pretty well at it, too. But I digress, as they say.We decided to go for pizza ourselves after we got home in the late afternoon. We had a quick swim, first, no suits which kind of put me in the mood as it always.

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