Deep down I knew it was not me because I looked after myself kept in shape and still had a part time modeling career.Bit by bit the truth was beginnin... to dawn on me as when on the few occasions we actually did something physical he wanted me to talk about sex with other men I had met, and he finished off by masturbating as I told a pack of lies.I Googled his conditions and arrived at my husbands fetish, he fantasized when I left for a weekend's modelling, he knew I did one off specials for. He kisses me passionately and lays beside me. He holds me in his arm, giving me butterfly kisses on my face, his hands exploring and rubbing, while we lay on the ground of his office. "Iz," he begins. "I want to ask something of you, but you don't have to answer me..." he trails off. "What is it?" I ask. "Is Issack really your boyfriend?" I laugh, and he stares at me questioningly. "No, Issack is just a friend. He was being stupid when you asked." He sighs in relief and kisses me. "Thank god,. More

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