” My stomach tightened, but my pussy had a mind of its own, and I felt it moisten up at the thought of the tall, exotic eastern European beauty. “...h, I see. Then this is…” “This is Jocelyn-Anne Wilkins, my teacher.” My skin burned. If she had called me her slut or something else derogatory, it wouldn’t have been half as shameful as being introduced with my full name and the forbidden nature of our relationship. “Say hello, Miss Wilkins!” “Hello,” I stammered and extended a hand, waiting for the. I knew that he would come back home to me and not start a long term relationship or ever want a divorce. At a luncheon with studio wives, mostly all divorced and remarried at least twice, I once heard a woman lament that men were nowhere near the men they used to be, the men of the so-called ‘greatest generation’. I responded to her that the men of the greatest generation didn’t come home to a wife in sweatpants with ‘Juicy’ branded across her ass ... who will most likely divorce him, taking. More

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