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Betty and Linda were tight. Where one was, the other could usually be found nearby. As much time as my wife spent with Betty, I sometimes wonder who she loved more.
But I couldn't blame her. Betty was a 19-year-old goddess. Her copper-red hair flowed down around her oval face, contrasting starkly against her emerald-green eyes. Her smile lit up the room the second she stepped into it.
Her rack was nice and large, but it was her long legs that set me off. Betty was always wearing the skimpiest outfits - something I think just to turn me on - short shorts or cut-offs with so many holes you could practically see everything.
I rarely saw her, though, as my wife, Linda, was fiercely jealous. To the point where if we were in the same room together, she'd have a hissy.
That's why I went to the dark web.
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