We drank them until they were almost empty, laughing and gabbing about things in general when Martie said, ‘I’ll be right back and I want to hear all the sordid details of your adventures!’ And left me sitting on her lounging leather couch. While Martie was gone, I started to think about the last time I was here and how I learned that my pussy was a work of art and not a smudge mark on my feminine canvas. I also began to think about the stories I would be telling Martie concerning what had happened since then and I could feel the heat rising within me. I was also starting to feel the effects of the wine and between the two, found myself pleasantly aroused. Martie came bounding back into the room wearing a loose bathrobe tied around her waist. ‘What’s with the bathrobe?’ I inquired. ‘Well, I just thought I would save myself some effort. If your stories are even close to the fantasies you described the last time you were here, then I will have to have easy access. I will not just sit. But it was obvious from the torrent of emotion pouring out of her that, something very bad had happened over the past ten days. And it involved Murphy. I wanted to get to the bottom of it.I was still holding Janet by her waist, just above where her hips flared out into that delectable ass. I turned her around, made her look up at me, and said, “Let’s do what we have always done, talk it through.” I tried to come-off controlled and sympathetic. But I was starting to have a very sad feeling. I walked into the house and back into the kitchen. I made us a couple of cups of herb tea. I brewed Janet’s favorite, she looked like she needed some chamomile to relax.I carried both steaming cups over to the table. She was sitting in our bright and sunny breakfast nook. Because we are both creatures of long married habit she was sitting in the exact same relative position as she had been sitting when she had angrily confronted me. That was not quite three hours ago.She was back to sobbing. Her.
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