Journey into Cuckoldry Cloud Nine
“Forty-eight minutes!” Alice gasped as she burst through the kitchen door on Sunday morning and grabbed the watch that lay on the counter. She was merely a few feet ahead of me but those few feet were important. She turned to face me, panting, her face sweaty and pink with exertion. “I’ve never beaten you before!” she grinned broadly, leaning back against the table’s edge, her eyes bright with excitement and glee. “And you won’t beat me again,” I frowned then burst out laughing, “when my knee...