That fucker," she slurred a bit. I just let her rant, and hopes that she'd feel a little better came upon me. "He did certainly pick out a fine lookin... lady. Donna, you are hot," she told me. "Thank you," I replied. Our food showed up, and that soaked up some of the alcohol. Stomach pains were removed from her, and she became herself again. "That's better, I'm sorry for what I said about Jack. I guess I just have some resentment bottled up," she confessed. "Evidently, but don't worry about it,". Her father is a banking executive, her mother a prominent real estate broker. She went to a private school, church, and grew up in a upscale suburban home where the highest moral standards were expected. Dance practice, piano lessons, honor roll, sports, cheerleader: their pretty daughter was all american, sweet, straight as an arrow- over acheiver. When we got married I never dreamed that she would want to have sex with other guys, or that I would let her. Lisa’s got this dirty little secret. And something to wear tonight. You're coming over to my house."She tried to work while holding my hand."Jill. It's OK. You can let go."She got a suitcase packed and put some pants and a shirt in it. She held up a transparent nightgown and I shook my head no. She returned it to the drawer and pulled out a pretty blue one that was more suitable for wearing in my living room."Anything else you need? Makeup? Books for school? Bathroom stuff? Do you wear underwear or shoes?"She giggled, said "Oops". Thirty pictures. She tried two of Joyce’s bikinis. She flirted. Fifty pictures. I ran a slideshow. She really liked the pictures. We shared another glorious hug. We dressed and I drove her back to her dorm. She commented during the drive: ‘This has been a most wonderful day. Thank you.’ I sat and meditated for almost an hour before fixing myself some dinner. I checked my email and found a message from Lisa. She was wondering if we could get together. I called her and we set up getting together.
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