They were right. Beeg XXX Can you let him in?”
“Oh, YES.” And she scampered from the bathroom to the porch door. My still-brain-fucked wife emerged from the bathroom in her soaked workout clothes. “And the place looks great!”
“I worked like a dog,” I said. . Both knew what was coming next. She was in the bathroom, scrubbing the bathtub. But the tech I’d been developing had been easy to sneak out. That suggested most of our audience consisted of older married guys-guys with a little money and a long marriage who thirsted for the fantasy wife instead of the one they had. The hair of Gunther, our black lab. Both knew what was coming next.
