We's freebooters, locals, home guards, militia, whatever y'wants." Pillagers" I said. "Thieves, shitheads."He squinted at me."Lady over there says you...took her money, if you're her husband," I said, glancing at the woman who still sat by the fire, seemingly enjoying our conversation."Lady? Haw! Do she?" She does," I said. "How about giving it back?" How about goin' to hell," he said, fumbling a pistol from his belt. I was on him in two steps, twisted the weapon out of his fingers and tossed it. . for driving said husband straight into the embrace of strumpets and paramours. It is a perfect recipe for conjugal unhappiness, marital discord, domestic disaster, and a broken home.At first, I considered this malignant little screed evidence of a budding sense of humor, a quality she evinced all too little of while Horatio and I were bringing her up. Unfortunately, I can give only scant credence to that possibility. She is in deadly earnest I fear.I suppose it was preordained. She had to. "Ooohh," I moaned, my mouth hanging open to pant.She quickly stood up, making me look up at her, confused. She smiled, then kissed me. My boobs pressed against her's, her hands feeling me up and down and tracing the curves of my body. Her hand stopped at my waist, then slipped into the back of my jeans and squeezed my butt harshly. I moaned into her mouth, and I could feel her grinning on my lips.Her tongue slipped inside my mouth, brushing against mine. We tongue-wrestled fiercely, until her. I bumped into an old friend and we reminisced. He was a c***dhood friend and we spoke about growing up. It was exactly what I needed. Nothing we spoke about had anything to do with Denise.I was actually feeling pretty good when I finally returned home. I opened my front door and threw my coat on the coat rack. I went to my liquor cabinet to poor myself one last drink for the night. It was already opened and a bottle of my ex's favorite wine was missing. Instead of getting mad, I just laughed..
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