An instant later, Berkamp’s pan sparked as he too fired. Marie could sense that the balls passed each other, perhaps a third of the distance between...them in front of her husband, who stood unflinchingly. She felt a wave of release, withering with a slow moan as her being gave in to her urge to orgasm, a bucking, leaking, crippling wave of sensualism as she watched the red line of the ball grazing her beloved Hans’ cheek. She buckled with the relief and ecstasy of her orgasm combined with the. The latter transformed the guitarist, lighting up those steel-blue eyes. She returned the smile, the full white-toothed one that she held back from the jocks. “Yup—one beer, compliments of the house.” She was handing over the bottle when he grabbed her arm, fingers sliding around her wrist, gripping tight. Instinctively she made to yank back her hand, but he held on, pulling her across the bar counter towards him. “The things I’d do to you…” The moment to whack his grinning face came—and. More

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