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He pushed the passenger door open forme and I heasitated. Frozen in time knowing exactly what this man wanted."Well? Get in."I did exactly that and after a few minutes of silence while driving downthe street, he turned into a side street and to the back delivery areawhere no one can be seen from the street. My heart was aflutter and mymind was racing to keep up.The next thing I heard from him was, "Can you give me hand withdirections. I think I'm a little lost." He peered at his crotch the rightinto my eyes then moved his seat back to give me the proper room to dowhat he, I think he wanted.It isn't like this is the first time I have done this. Just this time,this guy think's I'm a hooker. A real one for sure! I better do what hesuggests. I've heard stories of girls getting beat up for not going alongand I don't have a Pimp for protection either.I unzipped his pants, and started to pull his cock out, which wasactually pretty difficult because his cock was already hard and wouldn'tbend. I felt conflicted. In so many ways I was glad that Maggie didn’t want to see Michael again. But I also wanted my wife to be happy and I wondered if I could never recreate with her the happiness she had in that picture. I didn’t mention to Maggie that I had seen the picture. I wondered if she knew it was there and available for anyone to see. I didn't mention it again.A few more weeks passed. Things didn’t change much. Work went on, and Maggie and I didn’t manage to find the right opportunity to discuss how things had changed since her return from Manchester.On a Monday evening, a couple of weeks into the new school year, I was on my computer while Maggie was marking some schoolwork. An email came into my inbox from an email address I didn't recognise. It had the title “Personal message for Paul”. I opened the email and read it. “Hi Paul, it’s Michael. Sorry to contact you out of the blue. I found your email on your business website. Maggie hasn’t replied to my messages.
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