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I shook my head and pointed at the chairs. She sat carefully, giggling softly like she felt she was doing something naughty. Steve was still staring, then turned his gaze to me, questioning. First, lets start with some reintroductions, I said. Stephen Danvers, meet Elizabeth Jeffries Turner. You know her better as Liza, but weve all called her Betsy. She has been married to our little Michael Turner here for the last eight years or so. Steve looked at Mike, who was quietly easing himself into a chair next to Gail. Mike? Mike nodded. I knew she was boinking someone when she sent me here for the few days every month. I never asked who. Steve looked heartbroken. Mike. Buddy. I.. I didnt know. She&hellip, She told me her husband was away on business all the time. I&hellip, Dude. He looked up at me. How? What tipped you off? I pointed at her ankle. The anklet you had me pick up a couple months ago. Plus, the timing of your emergency client call is exactly when Mike is usually exiled. I. I just happened to open my eyes and see him standing there and I followed his eyes as he looked my body over, from my legs to my pussy to my nipples and finally my face. When we looked each other in the eyes I immediately tried to cover myself. For the rest of the night we didnt talk to each other except for the all the apologies we exchanged. The next day we didnt talk at all. The next day when we had all gone to bed and fallen asleep, Derek came to my room and woke me up and took me into my bathroom where Mom wouldnt hear us talking. Ashlee, I think we should talk about what you were doing yesterday when I got home. Derek, I am sorry, I shou&hellip, he cut me off. Ashlee, will you please take off your shirt. (I sleep in just a big t-shirt that came down to my knees almost. He was just in his boxers) I did as he told me to do, silently. I took off my shirt and now I was standing in front of him completely exposed except for the panties I was wearing. Okay, now please, remove your.
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"Yeah," he said, "online." Online?" I said. "I don't have any pictures online." I stopped. "Except for Facebook." No," he said, "It wasn't Facebook. Definitely not Facebook." Something about the way he said it made me think that he was thinking I would understand. I didn't have a clue. I just looked at him."Aah," he said. He frowned. His body jerked as if he were about to get up and then he relaxed. "It's a nude photo," he said.I stared at him, my mind blank. And then I started to get angry."What kind of crap is this?" I said. "Do you get some kind of perverse thrill out of doing this to women? Jesus."He held up his smart phone. There I was in all my average middle-aged glory; droopy boobs and all. The moment I saw it I remembered although I couldn't fathom how it had gotten into his possession. He put his phone down, careful not to let anyone else see the image.I was stunned. And apprehensive."What do you want?" I said."I don't want anything," he said. "Well, I don't want to do.

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