"Bianca, the pretty blonde always wins, right? She gets a doting husband, a handsome dolt who adores her." She looked around. "That's winning isn't it..." Anybody else - Mike? Come on, you always have an opinion." Petruchio, obviously. He tames the shrew, weds her and beds her." He extended both arms and smiled broadly. "The end. Curtain." Hard to argue about that, but let me suggest another way to look at it. When the play begins, who is the unhappiest person, the angriest? It isn't Petruchio,. Stunned. I had never felt anything so intense. I stood there as she knelt before me, kissing my spent cock, and then gently and with such tenderness, lifting my boxers and pants up and doing up the zipper and button, restoring me to the way I had been before this experience. We held each other as she stood up and came close to me, our arms around each other, in an embrace of comfort rather than of passion. The room still had the faint scent of her arousal, and bringing my hand up to my face, I. More

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