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I smiled to myself as the thought began to cross my mind that i had wanted this meeting to lead to marriage but it was only leading towards friendship... I guess being friends will also do for me. I told Divya, not to worry about it. But Divya insisted that we stay friends. I guess she was being sympathetic towards me. I said its ok we will be friends. Then we ordered for Dinner, had our dinner and departed. I went home and i just fell asleep.The next day morning i woke up and i was thinking. I couldn't help but squirm as I sat in the back seat of my husband and Master's car. My rump ached and throbbed. The longer the car ride went, the more my discomfort grew. The ache grew with every moment and I embraced it.I deserved this pain.I had become a slut. A whore. A depraved woman who violated her marriage vows. I sold my body to my students. I turned my daughter into a prostitute to channel the lusts awakened in me when I witnessed Clint fucking his aunt, my fellow college professor,. "Screw that!" she said, surprising me, "This is all overtime anyway. "That bitch Bonnie is lucky we didn't leave her here to do all the clean up herself!"One more margarita had become three and we left the restaurant in a very pleasant haze.We went back to the store to finish the shipment. One of the boxes held several books on erotic photography.I tried to remain nonchalant as I pulled them out and stacked them on the shelving cart. I watched her face carefully as she looked at the titles,. But, once out of their confinement, stretching her arms towards the low ceiling of the cabin, she began to relax. She had 6 hours before leaving for rendezvous with her transport: the Wahoo, an old fleet-type diesel submarine used by covert operations crews for silent penetration and shallow depth approaches.In the fluorescent light of the cabin, Tracy's skin looked grayish. Bare-legged and barefoot, she was dressed in only her bra and panties. Some of the id markings in blue ink peeked out.
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