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"Any questions?"There were no questions, so everybody went back for more beer.The wedding was a resounding social success. Even the governor showed up. The reception was held in the largest auditorium in Birmingham and that was packed. Susan was thrilled and Jim survived.They didn't go on a honeymoon, there was too much to do to get ready for the big expedition to Dahlonega. The Humvees arrived and everybody laughed to see them in the incongruous bright orange; there was no question that they were easy to see. However, there were groans all around when Jim modeled the bright orange jump suit they were to wear as their uniform. Harriet Mason complained, "I look hideous in orange!"Jim had no compunction about leaving in the middle of January—he was told that there was a fairly warm spell 50 million years ago. He had kept a close eye on the weather in Alpha-2, as they were calling their target, and it had been warm enough for comfort in the jump suits the whole time.He had experimented. When he pushed into her, it happened much faster than with the first guy. No delicacy, no pretense.He immediately went straight to the heavy workout. It was like he wanted the coach to be proud of what his football player could do to this marathon runner! So, same mission position, with heavy bangs just about crumpling the sex seat. Certainly the bangs were crumpling my wife. She remembers deep thuds, pops, snaps and smacks that could be heard, even with the music blaring. That music was now Grand Funk, and the fuck was a grind in step with the heavy funk bass guitar. That big penis head was being d**g back and forth inside her. She said that she thought of a door knob being pushed and pulled through her gut. And she came harder than ever.Looking down at her thin athletic belly, she could see it rise and fall with the strokes. She put her hand above her belly button and felt the cock banging beneath. She heard a low frequency “MMMM…M” and saw in number two’s face that he was.
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‘Have you… dated anyone? Anything like that?’ There’s that tone again. Ashley puts down the picture and sits on the other end of the couch, her hands in her lap. She suddenly looks nervous. ‘Not really. There was one girl, but that didn’t go anywhere,’ I say. I’m hoping she won’t ask about the girl I’m talking about. Six months ago, about a month after I moved in to this place, there was a woman I met at Blue Dog’s. She was from Chicago, she said, and she was spending a week at a cabin on the lake that was owned by an old college friend. She was by herself, and I didn’t ask any more questions about that. We talked for a lot of that evening, though she didn’t really talk much about herself, except to tell me that she worked in the billing department of a credit card company. She took me back to the cabin, which was more of a cottage, I’d say. It had electricity and all the niceities you wouldn’t find in an average cabin around here. The lake was calm, and the night air was filled with.

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