"Nice," Ray said in admiration. Reaching up from his seat on the couch to one of Patty's thick thighs, he ran an exploratory hand up and down her fles.... His dark hand was in sharp contrast to Patty's white skin."Hope you don't mind my buttermilk thighs," Patty murmured, referring to slight dimples in her skin from cellulite. Although only barely evident, my wife was self-conscious about it, as well as the few faint stretch marks on her stomach from long-ago pregnancy."Nah," the tough-looking. She stopped and stiffened up like a doe caught in the headlights of a jeep on a cold winter morning. He pushed past her and saw the body on the floor right next to the bed at the same time she collapsed in a heap right at his feet. For a second, he didn't know if he should go check the body first or see how Sallie Mae was making out. He elected to check out the prone guy because it looked like real serious business.He could tell right away that it wasn't her bull-dog of a husband. This guy was. More

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