And you know I trust you."That last sentence was a gut punch. I felt a twinge of panic at the irony I might have heard in his voice. But mostly I felt...a surge of guilt and shame for making a cuckold out of him.♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡Girls' Night Out, she called it, making it sound innocent. But I knew we were at the point in our relationship where "innocent" was no longer on the menu.I drove to her place. She looked absolutely breathtaking: tall, dark, and mysterious; long-limbed grace in a little red party. His hand was cupping a breast through her blouse as her fingers stroked the crotch of his jeans. You could practically smell the raging hormones.Greg was a big fan of young love, and didn't object to them getting in a quick grope. Hell, he'd had people fuck in his back seat. But watching the couple depressed him, and made him feel incredibly alone. He couldn't remember the last time he felt the way they did, connected and alive. Perhaps that was why he was struggling with his novel—he'd. More

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