" I mumbled, looking up at her. I was fucked. She would divorce me. "No, baby, its okay," she said, looking down at me with a smile. "You were here th... whole time?" I said. I was so confused. "Yes, I was here the whole time. The masseuse was asking me if it was okay. If I was good with her making you cum. Baby, she wasn't asking you." My head was spinning. My wife had watched the massuese get me off? Had encouraged it? I couldn't believe it. Why had she let it happen? "Well, now I don't feel. ., it’s nothing really, I just ...,” he mumbled as he tried to avoid her gaze.“Don’t look away, babe, you just what?” she urged, looking increasingly puzzled.“Well, last night, you know when you said ...,” he began.“Said what?” she half laughed.“When you said, well almost said, said that you didn’t care whose cock ...,” he continued before she interrupted his flow.“Oh, for god’s sake, you silly boy,” she said, leaning forward and kissing his forehead.“James, listen to me, really, it meant. Once he felt me close my lips around him, he started pissing right into my mouth. His piss wasn't much better than the girls morning piss. I don't like drinking anyone's piss, but the morning one is worse.His stream hit the back of my throat and I choked a little at first, but didn't let my lips open, so I didn't lose any. I swallowed it down as it was streaming right into my mouth and down to my belly. I really had to piss bad now too and hoped he finished real soon, so I could go relieve. “Shots at two paces!” I announced. Ghormley looked confused at that. I smiled at Marty. “Hand me two identical shot glasses and that bottle of Southern Comfort.”He shrugged. “It’s going on your bar bill.”I set the two glasses up one at each end of the table we were using as a bar, and then filled each one to the very brim with the liquor. Ghormley moved to grab his, but I waved him off. “Wait! Wait! We’re not ready yet!” Bradley handed me a box of wooden kitchen matches, and everybody stared. I.
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