He awoke as soon as she moved and looked at her in astonishment. “Good morning”, she said, smiling at him happily and getting out of bed”. He held her gaze and then watched her as she got dressed, focusing on her breasts as she put her bra back on. He got up and went to the toilet, looking like he was having trouble feeling awake. She sat at the kitchen table and looked out the window thinking, ‘I am basically living here, it’s like I go home for a day or two and then come back here again’. He flushed the toilet and sat at the table with her, drinking orange juice and smiling at her. “So did you decide on something to do today?” he said, “Umm, No”, she said, sighing. They both got up and went to the shower, laughing and kissing. “I don’t like this shampoo”, she said, it’s not as good as my other one. He picked up his shampoo and said “I have awesome shampoo”, she laughed and put her shampoo in her hair. They took turns in going under the water and watched each other as they. Divorce followed when my husband discovered my soiled clothing in the laundry basket in the bathroom, panties and brassieres blouses and skirts, my fault being I carried semen like a trophy as a mark of my beauty regardless of where ejaculated I let it there to air dry as I had always done to impress my girlfriends at school who only talked a good fuck that they claimed to have had, whereas on look around my body the smell and taste of ejaculate hung around me like a musky scent that excited my schoolgirl friends into heat, something men could never understand who girls really were.Married at s*******n and divorced at twenty one, bitter and confused one year later saw my spiraling in an never ending eating disorder and failed dates until I just did not bother going out anymore and turning to porn and chat rooms to both fire and satisfy my need for sex.Then one day on a cold November morning, when I did my shopping I came out of the supermarket pushing a trolley towards my car I espied.
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