The Conversation Didn't Go So Well.
”“Maybe one day that can be a reality.” Her words pounded like drums in my heart. Could that really ever happen? She untied me and we lay in bed together. She held me tight and I fell asleep to the blissful thought of getting to enjoy Spitz for real. That night would be full of wonderful dreams.---Another week passed and we both groggily woke up to my cell phone ringing. I grabbed for my phone haphazardly and answered.“Hello?” I must have sounded like I had smoked 100 cigarettes. “Good morning Lyra! This is Hugo! Sounds like I just woke you up. Would you like me to call back later?”“No no that’s fine! What’s going on?” I tried to clear the frogs from my throat and slow down my heart rate.“I was wondering if you were both available a little later to come over. Margaret and I wanted to talk to you.” His words hit like arrows piercing into my chest. They knew. They must have known. That’s why they didn’t talk to us for two weeks. They were discussing how to deal with us. “Y-- yea that’s. And if it were true, oh wowwwwww! She would, after all these frustrating, madly exasperating long years with the raging pervert-smasher, have him by his big, hairy balls.He would have to share Sylvia with her. And, to cap it off, Velma could continue her hot action on the side with her horny boyfriend and his daughter.What was she waiting for?The address! Was it 123 Sutton Drive, Apartment 1? Or 121 Sutton Drive, Apartment 3? She should have written it down!After living with a man who made all her decisions for her for so many years, including when to wash her pussy and wag her overripe ass, Velma was not big on efficiency.But when she finally moved, it was with grim-jawed purpose. She'd check both addresses out!First, Velma had to stop at a gas station and get directions to Sutton Drive. She carefully wrote them down. Then she drove to 123, which had to be it, because his car was parked at the curb.Velma strode up the stairs, wishing she'd had one more stiff drink before she'd left..
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