Not a clothes dryer, not a furnace and godforbid a stove. I was a howling banshee anytime Jean-Claude or one ofthe boys suggested it. They knew to not...even bring it up to me and Icould never explain just why to them. It wasn't until I opened my eyesagain here that I remembered that it was that lingering memory of thatsickly green chlorine blowing back on us and the choking on it. I didn'tunderstand it was a hangover till then." Marcus picked up his drink andraised it to Carl. "Salude" he said. "I guess youlard-asses some kind of perverts who WANT to be punished."The guys were too upset to respond. They cowered together and held eachother's hands. The girls laughed nastily and ordered them to share akiss. The front door was still open. Someone might glimpse what washappening. Blushing furiously, the victimized men had to press theirmouths together for a long kiss with -- at the girls' insistence --plenty of tongue. By the time it was over both of the BBWs weresniffling. Their. More

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