"My" hairbrush was something-or-other-01 and this other one was something-or-other-02.How in the Hell... ? What twisted, demented, cruel, BASTARD woul... do such a thing?What kind of a sick joke was this?Then I remembered what web site I was surfing, and had to accept the obvious truth. The second hairbrush really was my husband's hairbrush. The company was huge and sold stuff through "the lady down the street" all over the country, so it wasn't all that surprising.There really wasn't any magic. They start to leave but the red-head returns the newspapers that they had borrowed.As she passes me to leave she stops to apparently answer her phone. Loud enough for only me to hear, “I have a husband who makes love to me. So do you want to fuck me or not?” “Certainly.” I say checking out her sculptured body. “Good. I have a hotel room. Follow be in a minute but don’t let my friends see you.” Without even looking at me she leaves.I follow discretely. The red-head has caught up with her friends. More

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