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To rewind: At 22 I had qualified as a secondary school history teacher, a year later I married Eve, who I had met whilst training, and who, like me had got a job at a school in London. The schools were almost twenty miles apart, but that seemed for the best at the time, because there was next to no chance of professional overlap. For five years we worked like Trojans, sharing a small 2-bed flat in the north of the city and travelling everywhere by public transport. With two meagre salaries in an expensive city, we saved very little. I still think it was right that we spent our spare time, and a fair proportion of our spare money, enjoying the weekends and holidays in each others’ company. We ate out each and every Sunday lunchtime, we chose a film or concert one weekend each month, we travelled to major European cities once or twice a year, went skiing once with some other teacher-friends, and even got as far as New York for 5-night long weekend. We were much in love and there are. I ejaculated profusely. She had to fight the gag reflex while I was pulsing and spurting into her. Recently Cassie has become rather foul-mouthed. I normally don’t care, but sometimes it really gets on my nerves. The other day Cassie kept on with the pro- fanity after I asked her not to. I think she was pushing me to see what her limits were, and she kept on after I warned her that I’d wash her mouth out with soap if she kept it up. Perhaps Cassie thought it was just a figure of speech. Anyway, I told her “That’s it! You are getting a much overdue mouth soaping!” I took Cassie by the hand and led her to the kitchen. Then I got a medium sized plastic bowl out and re- trieved a bar of Ivory soap. As I put some water into the bowl I told Cassie to get one of the kitchen chairs and bring it over to the sink. Just then the doorbell rang. It was Stacy, a friend of Cassie’s from work. “Hi Rick,” she said brightly, “I was on.
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