Arnie kept aprivate life that no one to this day knows about except a select few. Thenames of which I can say on one hand, myself included. His wife, Roberta,and his son, Orson, are none the wiser. They both have their own lives tolook after, which Arnie knew about."Are you ready for me?" Arnie spoke, his voice was smooth and made meenvy Roberta. She didn't know what she had.The guy with a lot of money and thoughtful insight is rare, and Arnieknows we could never be. It would cost too much just to keep thingssimple, and in this day, everyone needs to be aware of their finances. Sowe just stuck to the good fucking."Come on up," I replied, stepping away from the dresser and putting onsome of the perfume that I knew he loved.A moment later, we were kissing and feeling our stressed covered bodiesmelting away in the passion. Our tongues wrestling for dominance insideeach other's mouths. His hand, one on my neck, the other on my hip heldme in a tight embrace. My breasts were pressed. His nakedness and a full, unerring erection did not augur well, the only apparent relief the clear fizzing glass in his right hand. Oh how she needed a drink like nothing else to nullify the toxic taste. On the other hand, the shiny contraption Anthony held in the left appeared less welcoming and more foreboding. It looked to Ashlee's untrained eye like some kind of torture device. She swallowed hard, the foul taste making her gag, mind awash with nightmare visions.Taking a seated position on the edge, Anthony's sudden movement caused the bed to dip and the wire ligatures to tear once more into the soft skin at each wrist. Ashlee whimpered silently into the duct tape, eyes appealing for clemency. As her tormentor leaned in close, impulsively she turned away. That meant his lips were level with her ear and he wasted no opportunity to nibble the fleshy lobe. "Would you like a drink, Ashlee dear?" he asked almost fondly.Her head rolled back, eyes continuing to plead and implore a drink.
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