Connie forced her finger so far up into my wife, that I thought that Connie was literally going to lift her off of her feet.“You were fucked” stat...d Connie, “weren’t you?” My wife simply hung her head in shame.“Well” added Connie, “That’s what whores do, isn’t it?”“Yes Ma’am” replied my wife in a show of obedience.“Put her on her hands and knees…” Connie announced to no-one in particular, “I want to hear these sweet bells while her breasts sway from side to side” Connie added, as she casually. A sunshower, it was called, that phenomenon where rain fell as the sun shined. Days like this were actually pretty good for business, not that that was Hannelore's concern: her shift was over, and she was going home.Too bad about the fucking rain.Hannelore looked like she'd just smelled an open sulfur deposit. Her nose was scrunched up with annoyance in that way her friends always made fun of; her eyes, hazel and swallow-tailed, rolled to the side as if in defiance of a rival storm god.Man.... It's amazing how many little problems come to light on the shop floor over the weekend when I wasn't around to sort them; consequently my Mondays were fairly busy.I'd generally knock-off about seven; then stop in the pub for a pint and steak before going home, usually arriving about the same time as Jill and the children. Was it habit or could you call it routine? I have no idea, but that's how Mondays had gone for as long as I cared to remember.But, routine was one thing that Monday proved not. I did everything I could to engage her in conversation. I ended up winning her attention by offering to buy ice cream. Elli and I went to the store to pick up or favorite flavors. On the way home I saw Monicas friend Lisa heading into the gym at the same shopping center as the store. We made or pleasantries, I inquired why she wasnt out with Monica and the girls. She said they must have not invited her because this was her normal gym night. Elli and I made it home. We both at our ice cream.
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