I texted back, “Maybe they are open and honest about their lifestyle, and she hopes they will understand or at least accept her choices?” My wife texted back a smiley emoji and then a poop emoji. “Yeah, right! I bet that bitch puts on the thickest sweater she can and pretends she sells stuff on ETSY. Did you see her nipples, Sir? They look like they are permanently hard!”We used to text about what we wanted for dinner or things the kids were doing, but now our days were filled with conversations like this via text messages. I don’t know how Karen got anything done on days she worked, but it certainly made time fly for me. My wife didn’t always call me Sir or Master in text messages either, but she usually did even though I never told her to. She also began texting me to ask for permission to use the bathroom.I think it really was Karen who started that before I asked her to do it. It wasn’t like I had any way of knowing if she was going without permission or not. I do know if it had. ‘Just go down that way.’ One of the security guards said as me and Mila passed through security first. ‘Should we wait for Andrew?’ Mila asked. ‘I’m sure the security will tell him which way to go.’ I replied. ‘How are you two friends? He seems like an uptight prude and you see more like a free spirit?’ She asked as we headed to the top of the arena where the guard rails were. ‘You need someone the opposite of you to keep things interesting. If someone is the clone of you, you’ll just be agreeing with each other and have nothing to talk about’ I replied. There was a little step in front of the rails, that made you about two inches higher than everyone behind you when you stood on it. Me and Mila stood directly in the middle as Andrew came and stood beside me. ‘You guys wanna meet the band after the show?’ Mila asked. ‘Seriously?’ Andrew asked, his eyes lighting up. ‘Yeah, I got backstage passes.’ She replied. ‘If you were a dude, I would totally suck you off!’ He said showing his.
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