Over the next few
days, I silently went through every emotion possible,
while trying to decide what to do. After about 2 weeks
of near agony, I received a call at work one morning
from Walter. He said he was in the area and wanted to
take me to lunch. Against my better judgment, I
agreed. The rest of the morning I walked around my office
with an incredible urge to tell someone, "Guess what
I'm doing for lunch? I'm going with the guy that
fucked the shit out of my wife."
At lunch, Walter was his usual charming self and
never mentioned a word about my wife's ebony creampie. He
did what a lucky man I was too have such a wonderful
wife and said if he ever got married, he hoped to have
a wonderful relationship with his wife, like I do
with mine. Actually, we had a great time. When I got
back to my office, I reflected on ebony creampie that happened. I
realized that Walter is really a nice guy, handsome,
intelligent, and that if I was a woman I would probably be
attracted to him too. I understood that he had not meant me
any harm and obviously had been very discreet. He did
not know that I knew. I also realized that my wife
had not done this to hurt me, but instead had invited
me to screw another woman. I knew that I probably
would have done the same thing myself if I had the
opportunity. I now had to decide whether to react in the
world's traditional fashion with rage and divorce, or to
find a way to enjoy the ebony creampie that happened. I certainly never
dreamed at that point that I would someday have fabulous
experiences to write about such ebony creampie. Finally, what I decided I wanted
more than anything else was for my wife to tell me the
DETAILS on her extramarital fucking. DETAILS, I wanted
DETAILS OF EBONY CREAMPIE.
Over the next few
days, I silently went through every emotion possible,
while trying to decide what to do. After about 2 weeks
of near agony, I received a call at work one morning
from Walter. He said he was in the area and wanted to
take me to lunch. Against my better judgment, I
agreed. The rest of the morning I walked around my office
with an incredible urge to tell someone, "Guess what
I'm doing for lunch? I'm going with the guy that
fucked the shit out of my wife."