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Late in the morning, she showered and went into the kitchen for coffee. That's when she remembered, like the last 7 'sexings', she'd ordered him out of the house.

She thought, "well, he always comes home after a day or two, so I guess I'll have to do it myself." Shortly thereafter, she was drying white cottons that had suddenly become pink, after being washed with a red t-shirt.

She cried at that memory, "Oh God, what have I done? I'd be pleased to read whatever literary creations you can write on this or a similar topic, under your own screen names ...

Her hair was frizzled, with sticky, partially dried cum appearing in several places on her head and more on her well-displayed tits, one of which was half-out and the other, fully exposed: both were covered with love-sucks and her nipples on display were large, dark and distended, appearing well sucked, too.

Her sheath dress was on backwards, the tag showing in the front instead of hidden in the back.

She fought down the urge to pitch another temper, until she came across a letter, edged in red, detailing that she had a positive test for a STD, back 4 months ago, and that she must come to the clinic for immediate treatment. "Where the hell is that man of mine, now, when I need him to do things for me? May 13, 2015, The Oaks, Corsicana, Texas: Dolores slammed down the phone in a rage, after having the last of her 'special friends' break their 'date' with her, giving her all sorts of excuses.

She was not getting fucked now, even though the STD treatments were under way and she'd bought condoms enough for everybody.

A second call came in and then a third, both from wives of her 'special friends,'. "Besides," she thought, "Tam hadn't had any sex with me after that time, which I was glad about, so I could concentrate on getting fucked by my friends all the time." She called the clinic and got an immediate appointment.