She ran her hands down her body from her chest to her hips, feeling how her body curved. Her hands came together between her legs and pressed on her warm mound. She moaned. Her legs became weak and she fell back on Mom's bed. God, she wished a guy would come over to fuck her.She touched the back of her hand to her forehead. She was very warm, burning up all over. The tingling between her legs wouldn't stop. She had to do something about it, right away. But with what?She looked on Mom's dresser. Her brush had a round handle, but it was thin. That wouldn't do. Her own brush had a flat handle. She clenched her jaws and squeezed her legs together. Mrs. Thorn's rubber thingie would be perfect, but she couldn't just go over there and ask to use it. Mr. Thorn would be even better, but she couldn't ask to use him, either.Pam went through the house, looking for something, anything, to fuck herself with, anything that looked like a boy's thing. In the kitchen, she went through all the cupboards. By this time he was physically exhausted but mentally still buzzing.He decided that it was now too late to think of bed so he put on anightdress that Irene had hung in his room for him and went to thekitchen to make coffee. He had a sudden inspiration. He knew hewould be either beaten or electrocuted, either way it would bepainful, so he dosed himself up with the best anaesthetic known toman, half a bottle of scotch.After a long while he heard his wife calling. For a moment he hopedshe was using his proper name, but as he approached the bedroom herealised that it was Betty she wanted. When he walked in she demandedto know why he wasn't dressed and where was her coffee."Mistress, you can always torture me into doing something every time,but you will never break me. I will fight you in my own way so longas I have breath. I no longer wish to be your husband, I am going toget a divorce, you obviously don't love me." Love you!" she exclaimed. "Love you! Why would a woman love.
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