Tara clearly loved her husband very much, whereas what she felt for Damien was more of a potent combination of admiration, gratitude, friendship, compatibility, and lust.When lunchtime came, Tara joined Damien at the nearby cafe, where he grabbed a Reuben and fries, washed down with iced tea, while she opted for a grilled cheese sandwich, a pickle, and some root beer. The waitress looked at them rather curiously, which they wondered about until she finally spoke up.“Are you Tara Harmon?” she asked her directly.“That I am, and this is my boss, Damien Martin. We both work at the Volunteer. I’m a reporter and he’s an editor. How do you know my name?” Tara asked with curiosity, making the waitress squirm.“Oh, that man over asked if you were her. Sorry, don’t blame me. I’m just the messenger. Please don’t get mad. Trish Maynard, by the way. Please don’t get me in trouble!” she pleaded, feeling very scared.“Why would I get mad?” Tara asked, very confused.“Tara Harmon?” a man now approached. Her nose had been a little too wide for her face, but now, it seemed to fit with the rest of her face perfectly. Eyes, mouth ... everything was perfectly proportioned and balanced. Her tummy was now flat and her ass was smaller and tight. Even her pussy looked different.She had brought her hands up to cup her breasts, then tugged gently on her nipples. A sensation, many times stronger than she had expected, roared through her, almost sending her to her knees with its intensity. She staggered back to sit on the side of the bed. Sliding a hand down to pull a finger gently across her vulva, she finally touched her clit at the top of her stroke. She could have sworn that sparks flew from her little bud. The most powerful orgasm she had ever felt gripped her and the only reason she had not screamed out was that she kept her teeth clamped tightly together.When the orgasm finally released, she fell back panting, grabbed a pillow and held it over her face while she stroked her pussy again..
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