She had only gone to the store. She had spent five minutes at the f*****g 7-11 getting a soda and already George had stuffed his hands down his pants and become reacquainted with his c**k as if she had been gone for weeks. Calmly, Priscilla licked her lips. She removed the magazine from George’s shaky hands and flipped it open. There it was, t**s and ass everywhere, page after page of breasts and rear ends. It was typical, typical that George would be drooling after something he already had. As if he didn’t live with t**s and ass, as if he didn’t have complete access to t**s and ass every single day. And like she knew it would, there it came, the pathetic stammering of an explanation. “I was just having a look and—” Priscilla placed her hands on her hips. “Yes, George, you were just having
