‘Bullshit!’ one of the hecklers yelled. ‘What kind of name is Warmcox? No woman has a name like that!’ ‘Excuse me,’ Jane Bond said. ‘Did...you say Wendy Warmcox?’ ‘Yeah, what’s it to you?’ the story-teller, by now tiring of all the heckling, challenged her. Jane reached in her purse and pulled out the little color Polaroid snapshot of Wendy and W naked in bed, with W’s wrists and ankles tied to the four corner bed-posts. ‘Is this her?’ Jane asked. ‘Yeah, that’s her. And the guy is the man she was. Whew. We sat through the workshop/meeting which only go interesting because she reached down and very casually stroked my cock the remainder of the meeting. The ride back was just like the ride there. This was a problem because I pretty much had spent the last 3 hours stiff enough to bludgeon someone to death. We were a litle late because we tried a shortcut that got us slightly lost (pre-GPS days). Everyone was inside by the time we got back so she decided to get in a little more action. . More

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