“Holy fuck, Alison.” On the screen was a photo, taken into a mirror. My wife was in her lingerie, stockings and heels, legs spread slightly apart....Her head was partly turned into the chest of the man standing behind her. Her eyes gazed upwards to his face and she was smiling at him. A tall black man had his left arm around her waist, his fingers spread just above the waistband of her beautiful panties. His other hand cupped her right breast. He smiled into the mirror. Smiling at me? It was the. She strained her ears for any sound from the kennels but the German Shepherds were evidently peacefully asleep and no other sound interrupted the woodland quietness.She knotted and cut the thread she had been using, then tossed the mended shirt beside her on another chair. After several soundless moments had passed, she rose and walked back toward the living room. She winced slightly as she entered the room and glanced at the red velour couch on which Jack Green had crawled between her. More

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