" She then grimaced and muttered, "Shit."Flinging the door open, Irene impatiently shrugged her robe over her shoulders and threw herself onto the bed... Picking up a novel she had started, she opened the book and tried to interest herself in the banal plot before slamming the book shut and tossing it from her."Damn it, I need a drink," she said aloud. She rose from the bed and walked to the kitchen where a few bottles of whiskey were stored. A glass, some ice cubes and a splash of bourbon. She still babysat when he went out and would be waiting naked in his bed when he returned. When his dates occasionally included sex, he used condoms, and Liz would give him “real pussy” as he told her about the evening. She got turned on thinking about his dick in another, probably prettier, woman earlier, but SHE was the one in his bed now. Even though each would have other partners, they would remain friends-with-benefits and confidants for life. Liz thanked him with her twat, whenever. More

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