“All is going well at least until now,” I thought, as my cab pulled over at the college entrance. I hurriedly walked into the college campus, clim...ed 3 floors briskly.Shit! Almost my entire class was there, sitting on the floor studying, just outside the ladies’ washroom. Well, I was the only hot girl in Mechanical Engineering, so even in my salwar kameez, my classmates still became wary of my presence. They asked me some generic questions like ‘What did you prepare?’ and stuff.But those. The camera-toting guy joined her without showing the world his underwear or ass, and they cautiously edged away from their ride, the reporter going first again. When they were on the walkway, I motioned to the pilot to take off. He gunned his engine to get his ex-passengers' attention, motioning that he was going up. They weren't happy, but they'd known it was going to happen. They nodded grimly, and the chopper left, quickly replaced by another.The second set of passengers had debarked before. Kyle's cock was easily twice the size of his, possibly even thicker. Stepping out of his underwear and standing there, a skinny teenage boy, barely nineteen, he knew that his life was over. There was nothing he could do to stand up to this man. If Kyle told him to bend over, James would have to bend over, or risk something worse.Crying like a baby, far too aware of the laughter and jeering from those that could see him in the cells opposite, he leaned over the bottom bunk, trapping his cock. ‘I didn’t think so,’ he concluded, seeing the answer on my face. In truth, those would be things that were none of my business–things that were part of Carl’s ‘fictional’ divorcee’s private past. They were things a man marrying a divorcee would automatically get past. He’d live with her past as a matter of course and not feel any the worse, he’d feel no humiliation, no desire for retribution…if he were man enough. She’d live with his past too, comfortable that he was with her now, and not with.
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