Chapter 2
(MF)
8-year-old Felicia finds out Mommy and Daddy are wannabe swingers...
Warning: This is just a story. Please do not try this at home.
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unsafe sexual practices or sex between adults and minors.
The first week in February went smoothly. Friday afternoon, Dave came into the newsroom and hugged me.
"What the fuck?"
"Your south end stories attracted advertisers and subscribers: Red's Restaurant, The Chihuahuan Desert Resort and Curio Shop, Quicksilver Stables and River Tours."
"Give him a raise, Dave," Billie Jean said.
"I already have."
The phone rang. "Mr. Brown on line one for Billie Jean." She put the phone on speaker.
"How may I help you, Mr. Brown?"
"Something has come up, and I will not be available Monday morning. Can you instruct your reporter to be here at 4:30?"
"Why call me?"
"You're his superior."
"Talk to him, Phil."
"4:30 is fine with me, *Pat.* I'll be there on time."
"I will see you then, *Mister* Lander."
"Cool."
He slammed the receiver down.
Saturday morning, I took Billie Jean and Felicia on a tour of the south end. Once through The Portal, we were truly in the desert. To my surprise, Felicia loved the rugged mountainous terrain.
"Shopping Center?" she giggled when she saw Rudy's Butte's eclectic conglomeration of structures around an unpaved parking area. We explored the rock shop and curio shop, where Felicia was fascinated by a jackrabbit with antelope horns: a jackalope.
The product of a taxidermist's art was not for sale, but stuffed cloth versions were, and Felicia wouldn't leave until we purchased one.
In Quicksilver City, Doug let her ride a horse around the stables and down Main Street. The head boatman, Jeff McClusky, said he'd take us along on a half day river trip as soon as it warmed up, and there was a paid trip we could tag along with.
More 'Morale' posters appeared.
On the way back home, we stopped to visit Dangerous Dan and Big Boobs Barb.
"You're sexy!" Hawkeye said to Felicia.
Barb said, "My asshole husband told him to say that to all the girls."
"You're cute," Felicia said. "But you're way too young for me."
A year younger was 'Way too young?'
We had lunch at Red's before going back to the hotel. We dropped Felicia off at Dave's house, where he was hosting a slumber party for the staff's daughters.
Billie Jean said, "Detective Antonio Flores has been flirting with me for the past month. Yesterday, he said he was going to conduct a stakeout at Arroyo Contrabando tonight looking for drug smugglers, and asked if I wanted to go with him."
"Are you going?"
"Of course not. You were a cop. Do you think your department would have approved of a civilian, especially a female civilian, accompanying a cop on a stakeout if there was any chance on earth of catching drug smugglers in the act?"
"Of course not."
"You know it's a ruse to seduce me."
"Yes. And you would love to go."
"No!"
"Be honest. You want him to fuck you."
"I've thought about it. With him flirting with me, how can I not think about it?"
"Remember last year when you brought up the subject of an open marriage?"
"That was because I thought you couldn't be monogamous. After all, you cheated on your first wife a lot. And after the divorce, you had quite a reputation as a playboy. But you convinced me that you had no interest in other women."
"And why was that?"
"Because I'm the best piece of ass you've ever had, and the finest fellationist in the known universe."
"And you give me whatever I want when I want it. You're never too tired, or have a headache. If I want to fuck, we fuck."
"You do the same for me. What's your point?"
"In your drugs, sex, and Rock 'n' Roll hippie days, before you married Steve, you were a slut. You fucked a lot. And you loved the freedom to fuck a lot."
"Unlike you in your first marriage, I take my wedding vows seriously."
"Do you remember those vows?"
"I take you to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part."
"I don't think I heard anything about monogamy. Sex isn't mentioned at all. You didn't take a vow of chastity."
"Faithfulness to only you had to be in there somewhere."
"I don't think so, Baby."
"It couldn't be left out."
I picked up the phone, and dialed '0'.
"Who are you calling?"
"A church."
Maria, the hotel's switchboard operator answered, "How may I help you?"
"Call the First Baptist Church, please."
The pastor's secretary answered and I asked her to recite the traditional Christian wedding vow for me, then handed the phone to my wife.
"I, (Name), take you, (Name), to be my wife/husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy law, in the presence of God I make this vow."
"Thank you," Billie Jean said, and hung up.
"Well?"
"You're right. Nothing. I could have sworn…"
"Did honoring those vows that you thought you took with Steve make you happy? I don't remember you being happy as a faithful little wifey."
"After we got married, Steve became jealous, and possessive, and controlling."
"I am not jealous, possessive, or controlling. That's why I am telling you that you are free to fuck, if you want to fuck."
"Really!?!"
"Really. If you want to fuck another man, I want you to fuck another man. If you want to suck another cock, I want you to suck another cock."
"This is crazy."
"No. This is not crazy. This is sane. Denying yourself joy when it's available to you is insane," I said. "You think about Flores fucking you. You want Flores to fuck you . But you know you'd feel guilty if you did."
"Are you shitting me? I feel guilty for just thinking about it. I feel guilty for wanting to."
"Stop the guilt trip. Share with me. Tell me what you're thinking. Tell me what you want to do. We share fantasies all the time. Share this one. I know I'm weird. You know I'm weird. If you want to fuck, I want you to fuck. And I want you to tell me all about it while I eat your pussy."
"Oh my God! You are making me so fucking hot."
"You know you want to fuck other men. I know you want to fuck other men. If you want to be a fucking slut, I want you to be a fucking slut. I know that you'll fuck anytime I want to fuck. Fucking other men and sucking other cocks isn't taking anything away from me. I know you'll give me pussy whenever I want it. You'll give me head whenever I want it. You always have and I know you always will."
"You really want me to fuck around! You're getting off to the idea of me fucking around!"
"Yes, Babe, I am. It fucking turns me on."
"Tell me."
"Tell you what?"
"Tell me that you want other men to fuck me. Tell me that you want other men filling my cunt and my mouth and my ass with their hot cum."
"I do, Billie Jean. I want it. I want you to fuck whomever you want to fuck, whenever you want to fuck, whenever you want to fuck, however you want to fuck, why ever you want to fuck."
"What if I want to be a fucking slut, and fuck a lot of men?"
"If you want to be a fucking slut, I would love you being a fucking slut."
"Montenegro is a small town. Everybody knows everybody else's business. If I decided to become a fucking slut, it wouldn't be long before everyone in town, and possibly in the county, would know that your wife is a fucking slut. Wouldn't that be humiliating?"
"They'll also know that you're *My* fucking slut, and that I love you being *My* fucking slut."
"They'll think that you're not man enough to satisfy your wife's wants and needs."
"I don't give a shit what people think."
Billie Jean laughed. She had an almost musical laugh. I loved it. "That's one of the things I love about you Philip Lander. You really don't care what other people think about you."
"It's not something I work at. It's not like I woke up one day and …. No. That's exactly what it was like. I was 16. It was the summer of 1959. I looked around, and saw all the phoniness, the hypocrisy, the materialism. I know that I must have been aware of various incidences of phoniness and hypocrisy. That moment I saw it in everyone I knew; family, friends, neighbors. I felt so alone and out of place. I was supposed to be in another time and place. I didn't belong. I was an alien in my own land. I gradually quit caring what those hypocritical phonies thought. In the navy, I opened up. I let people know how I felt and what I thought. I hated the fucking military, and I let everyone know I hated the fucking military. I was a civilian who made a stupid mistake."
"I think everyone sees the phoniness and hypocrisy. Most of us adapt. We try to fit in, while holding onto our values and scruples and ethics. We go along to get along. Did you know that you were constantly on the verge of being fired at the Sun?"
"Yeah. I was constantly on the verge of being charged with insubordination in the navy," I laughed. "I was given a couple of 3-day suspensions on the police department for insubordination, and conduct unbecoming. But we're not talking about me, and my wants and needs. We're talking about your wants and needs; especially your need for hard cock."
"No. We were talking about your need and desire for your faithful wife to become a fucking slut; your desire to eat my pussy while I tell you all about another man fucking me. Do you want to taste another man's cum in my cunt?"
"Yes! In your cunt and in your mouth. I can't believe it. I want to watch other men fuck you. Watch you suck other men's hard cocks. And I want them to see me lapping up their hot cum."
"Oh, Damn! Fuck me, Phil! Fuck me now!"
We quickly stripped. She flopped down on the bed with her legs spread. I buried my face in her juicy cunt, licking, nibbling, sucking, tongue fucking her to two orgasms. Before she recovered from the orgasms, I rammed my hard 9-inch cock into her to the hilt, and fucked her hard, giving her two more orgasms to my one. The moment my cock stopped pumping cum into her hot twat, I went down on her again. She got off to me cleaning out her cunt after I fucked her.
"Eat me, Phil! Eat my pussy. Imagine that's Tony Flores's cum filling my cunt. Eat his cream pie while I tell you how much I loved having another man's cock fuck my pussy and my mouth. I'll describe his cock, and tell you how it felt and tasted. I want Flores to fuck me! I want other men to fuck me, too. Oh, my God! I want to be a fucking slut. I want everyone to know that I'm a fucking slut. I want everyone to know that my husband wants me to be a fucking slut. Oh, God!!! I'm cummming!!!"
I rolled off, and lay down beside her, floating on that euphoric postcoital cloud.
"This is when I miss cigarettes the most," Billie Jean sighed. She quit when she got pregnant, and made me quit before she let me move in with her and Felicia. She didn't want her daughter inhaling other people's second hand smoke.
"Will pot do?" I asked.
"Oh, hell yes!" she said. "It didn't take you long to score. I thought I'd have to be the one to find a source. I'm the hard-core pot head. I've been smoking since I was 14. You didn't smoke until I corrupted you."
"You can thank Dangerous Dan Hinkley for that," I said, taking a joint from the nightstand drawer and lighting it.
"I believe I have. If he wasn't married to a jealous wife, I'd give him an appreciatory fuck." Billie Jean shook her head. "I can't believe it. Now, I can't stop thinking about fucking other men."
"Honestly, are you telling me that you didn't think about fucking other men before?"
"Of course I thought about it. But I felt guilty for thinking about it. Thinking about cheating on you."
"Who in Chemical City did you think about fucking the most?"
Her response was immediate, "Don Burns, the parks and rec director. And a firefighter, Harry Gordon."
"I remember him. I got a photo of him rescuing a mutt from a house fire."
"He came to the paper, wanting prints of the photo. He flirted, and I flirted back. It was right after we got together. If he had come in a week or two earlier, I would have fucked his brains out."
"Why didn't you fuck Burns between marriages?"
"He was married, and I didn't relish being 'The Other Woman' in a divorce proceeding. We kissed and fondled a few times, and I was almost ready to become 'The Other Woman' when you and I got together. You were the hottest, most uninhibited lover-fucker I ever had."
"You made me feel uninhibited. When your cunt sucked my cock into it, it sucked out all of my inhibitions. With you, I felt free to do anything I felt like doing, and say anything I wanted to say."
"I felt the same way," she said. "I have never been that uninhibited with any other man."
"And, now you are free to be uninhibited fucking other men."
"I don't think I could."
"I think you can. I *know* you can. I know that you love being wild and free and uninhibited in bed. Or wherever you happen to be when you're fucking."
"It would shock Flores."
"Is he working this weekend?"
"I don't know," she said thoughtfully. "Wait. He's on call."
"Call the S.O.. Tell the dispatcher to have him call you here. Arrange to meet somewhere for coffee or drinks to discuss 'stakeouts,' and see where it goes from there."
"You are a wicked, wicked man, Philip Lander."
"You don't have to," I said with a grin. "It's merely a suggestion."
She giggled and picked up the phone. "Please connect me with the sheriff's office.
"No. There's no emergency. Thank you...
"Dispatcher, this is Billie Jean Lander, managing editor of the Gazette. Could you have Detective Anthony Flores call me at the Montenegro Hotel...
"It's not urgent. At his convenience. Thank you."
The phone rang less than five minutes later. We sat side by side on the bed. She held the phone between us.
"Hello?"
"This is Detective Flores. You called?"
"Yes. I've been considering that invitation to join you on a stakeout. I thought we might get together over coffee somewhere to discuss the arrangements."
"When?"
"At your convenience, Detective Flores."
"How about The DownTown Diner. Would a half hour be too soon for you?"
"That would be perfect, detective," she purred. "I'll see you in a half hour."
Billie Jean turned to me, her eyes bright with excitement. "This is so fucking hot. I need to take a quick shower. What should I wear?"
"The white frilly blouse with the top buttons missing. That black skirt. The one that comes down to about mid thigh. White patent leather open-toed shoes."
"I'll look like a nun."
I grinned.
"You are so kink-key. I love you."
I laid out her attire while she showered.
Billie Jean normally uses very little makeup; lipstick slightly brighter than her natural color, eyeliner, a touch of shadow, and maybe a hint of blush on her cheeks. She came out of the bathroom with a little more liner, shadow and blush than usual. The big difference was the blood red lipstick.
"Do I look like a whore?" she asked.
"More like a high class call girl."
Her last words as she left were, "I'm as nervous as a schoolgirl going on her first date. I'll probably chicken out. Don't get your hopes up."
Less than five minutes after Billie Jean departed, Felicia came in, nearly catching me stroking my cock. Nudity wasn't a big deal in our household. We weren't nudists, but we changed clothes in front of each other. She came into the bathroom to pee while I was bathing, and I peed while she bathed. But I don't think she had ever seen me with a full erection. She stared at it and grinned.
I stepped into the bathroom, grabbed my robe and put it on. Then I sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with elbows on knees, to conceal the tent.
"The slumber party's been called off. Nancy got sick," she said.
Nancy was Dave's daughter. Dave arranged for his employees' kids to have a party. Nancy, Felicia, Caroline, the advertising sales woman's daughter, and Brittany, the circulation manager's daughter, were to have the party at Dave's house. He was determined to make the Gazette staff feel like family.
"That's too bad," I said.
"I don't care. They think they're better than me because they're older than me, and they think that Mr. Lyons, and Mrs. Cranston are Mom's bosses. They're snooty bitches."
"Your Mom took the job because Mr. Lyons promised her that she would be the boss of the editorial department, and no one, including Mr. Lyons, could tell her what to do. She made him put that in writing. Your mother doesn't have a boss."
"Do you have a boss?"
"Your mother."
"That's cool."
She went to her room and turned the TV on. She left the kitchen doors open.
Less than twenty minutes after that, Billy Jean burst in, laughing.
"That son of a bitch made me wait nearly ten minutes. I was almost five minutes early, so I waited nearly fifteen minutes. That arrogant bastard walked in with a smug grin on his face.
"Before he could sit down, I said, 'I don't play games. We both know 'the stakeout' is a ruse to seduce me. I'm too old to fuck in the back seat of a car. If you're interested in some good sex, call me between 10 and 5 o'clock Monday at the Gazette. Tell me if we're going to fuck in your place or a motel room.' Then I got up and walked out. I strutted out. His mouth was hanging open."
"Hi, Momma. Who you gonna have sex with?"
"Shit!" Billie Jean exclaimed, glaring at me. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Honestly? I forgot about her being here. I have never seen you so excited."
"Who are you going to *Do It* with, Momma?" Felicia indelicately asked.
"You're not upset with me?"
"Daddy's not upset. He acted happy about it. And it sounded like you were bragging. Why should I be upset?"
Billie Jean shook her head.
The phone rang, and she snatched it up. "Hello?... I told you to call me at the Gazette Monday, between ten and five. Don't call me at this number again unless I specifically tell you to." She slammed the receiver down.
Her scowl turned into a grin, and she giggled, "That was so much fun!"
Felicia asked, "Do you think that he'll still want to *Do It* to you after you've been so mean to him?"
"I am not going to discuss *Doing It* with my 8-year-old daughter."
"Why not?"
"Because mothers are not supposed to discuss *Doing It* with their daughters!"
"Why not?"
"Because it's … it's … it's just too weird!"
Felicia looked at me, "So, it's okay with you if Momma lets another man *Do It* to her?"
"If that's what your mother really wants to do, it's okay with me. And I know that your mother really wants to *Do It* with another man."
"Philip!!!"
"Am I lying, Billie Jean?"
"Is Daddy lying, Momma?"
"No."
"Who's going to do it to you?"
"I'm not certain anybody will. If Flores doesn't call Monday, nothing's going to happen."
"Detective Flores!?!"
"You know him?"
"He came to our school cafetorium and talked to us about saying no to drugs and stuff. He's the one who's going to *Do It* to you? You're going to *Do It* with a cop?"
Billie Jean stooped down to Felicia's level. "Baby, you cannot go telling the other kids about this."
"Okay."
"Promise me."
"I promise, Momma," she said with wide-eyed innocence.
I didn't alert my wife to the fact that our daughter had the index and middle fingers of her left hand crossed behind her back.
"Damn it!" Billie Jean exclaimed. "I'm going to have to call it off."
"That's up to you, Babe," I said. "Flores will think you chickened out, after your bravado act in the diner and on the phone."
"I hate you," she hissed.
Tears welled in Felicia's eyes. "You hate Daddy?"
"I didn't mean it. Daddy knows I didn't mean it. I could never hate Daddy."
"You sounded mean when you said it. It sounded like you meant it."
"It's kind of hard to explain, Babe," I said. "Momma didn't mean she hates me. She means she hates what I said. You heard what she said to Detective Flores at their meeting in the diner. You heard what she told him on the phone. Your mother took charge of their relationship. She took control of the situation away from Flores. Understand?"
Felicia nodded her head.
"If she cancels their 'date,' he will think she chickened out, and all her bravado was just an act, and that she's not tough enough to stay in control."
"Don't chicken out, Momma. Do It. Show the asshole who's boss."
"I love you, Baby!"
"So, you're going to do it?"
"If Flores doesn't chicken out, I'll do it."
"Do you think he'll chicken out?" Felicia asked.
"He might," Billie Jean said. "Some men are afraid of forceful women."
"I don't think he will," I said. "He's way too macho to throw in the towel after the first round. He has to *Do It* to her at least once."
"You want him to *Do It* to Momma?"
"Yes, Baby, I do. Because once he finds out how good you mother is at *Doing It* he's going to be addicted. And the only way he'll be able get more, is to get it on Momma's terms. She wins, but he doesn't really lose, because he's getting some of the best pussy on earth."
"Philip!!! She's only 8 years old!"
"That's okay, Momma. Kids at school say 'Pussy' and other sex words all the time."
Then to me, "What if his thing is better than yours, or what if he does it better? What if Momma wants him more than she wants you?"
"That is not going to happen," Billie Jean said. "Flores is a selfish self-centered egotistical son of a bitch. He is not interested in me. He's not interested in getting to know me. He's only interested in getting into my pants. He's only interested in my… my pussy."
"It don't sound like you're interested in him either."
"I'm not. That's why your father knows he has nothing to worry about."
"It sounds like you and him don't really even like each other, but you're going to do it anyway."
"Yes," I said. "Your mother and Detective Flores are going to do it just for the fun of doing it, and for no other reason. No commitments, no attachments, and no expectations."
"Have you let her do it with other men before?"
"No. This is the first time. I'm certain it won't be the last."
"You really want Momma to do it with Detective Flores, don't you, Daddy? Do you want her to do it with other men too?"
"I want her to do it with whomever she wishes to do it."
"What if Momma wants to do it a lot with a lot of other men?"
"If your mother wants to do it a lot with a lot of other men, I want her to do it a lot with a lot of other men."
Felicia was quiet for a while, obviously pondering the situation. "When I grow up, I want to marry a man just like you, Daddy, so I can do it with whoever I want to do it with."
I asked, "Do you think you'll want to do it a lot, with a lot of different men?"
She nodded enthusiastically, giggling naughtily.
I suddenly had visions of my naughty naked 8-year-old daughter with a lot of naked men. Just when I thought my cock couldn't get any harder, it did. My little girl wanted to fuck a lot of men when she grew up, and I wanted her to begin as soon as she wanted.
"It's getting close to bedtime, Filly. Take your bath, and get ready."
She came to me, and hugged my neck, forcing me to sit up straight, and exposing the tent between my legs. After the hug, she looked down at the terry cloth tent and giggled.
"How do you like having your very own bathroom, Kid?"
"It's okay. But…"
"But, what?"
"Nothing. It's okay."
I wondered if she missed being able to come into the bathroom and sit on the toilet while I bathed, and me peeing while she bathed.
When Billie Jean heard the water running, she closed and locked the kitchen door.
"I wanna fuck!" she declared. Quickly she stripped, pushed me onto my back, opened the robe, straddled my cock, and started humping.
"It's so hot, knowing you want me to fuck," she said grinding her cunt onto my cock. "I'm not saying that I didn't think about fucking other men before. But that's all I can think about now. I want to tell you who I'm going to fuck. How I'm going to fuck them. When I'm going to fuck them. Where I'm going to fuck them. Then I want to come home, and tell you all about every fucking thing we did while you eat my pussy."
I kissed a nipple and said, "That's what I want, too, Babe. And, I want to watch you fucking other men, and sucking other men's cocks. I want to taste other men's cum in your cunt and your mouth."
"You want other men to see you eating their cum out of my cunt after they fuck me?"
"Yes! Yes, I do," I said mauling her bouncing tits. "I want to watch them watch me eating your pussy after they've watched me watch them fucking you. I want them to know how much I love you being my horny fucking slut."
"You want me to be your slut wife, Baby? I'll be your fucking slut wife. You said I can fuck anyone I want to fuck. I'll fuck anybody you want me to fuck too."
"What if I bring a total stranger home, and tell you to suck his cock without even telling you his name?"
"Do it! I want you to do it!" She moaned and groaned, and spoke in tongues, humping wildly, while I rocked and bucked under her. "Oh, God! I'm cuuummmingggg!"
She rolled off of me and onto the bed. I dove between her legs.
"Eat me! Eat my pussy, baby. Clean it out like you would if it was another man's spunk. Other *Men's* spunk."
I gave her two intense orgasms with my tongue before she pushed my head away from her crotch. "No more! I can't take it anymore. Too sensitive!"
There was a knock at the kitchen door. "Momma? Daddy? I need a towel."
"You have a towel," Billie Jean said.
"I accidentally dropped it in the tub. It's wet."
Billie Jean got under the covers while I closed my robe, went to our bathroom and retrieved a beach towel.
I opened the kitchen door, handed her the towel with a reproving look, and closed the door. I discarded the robe, got under the covers, and whispered, "Filly heard everything."
"How do you know?"
"She hasn't been in the tub. She wasn't wet, and she had the naughtiest grin I've ever seen."
"Were you that nosy at that age?" Billie Jean asked.
"No. Not until I was nine or ten."
My wife giggled, "I was eavesdropping on my parents when I was six too."
"The fruit doesn't fall far from the tree."
"And she wants to marry a man like her Daddy."
"So she can be a slut like her Mommy."
"A couple of 9 and 10-year-old neighbor boys and I were play-fucking when I was five and six."
"Damn!"
"My father would have shit if he ever caught us. You'd probably watch and masturbate if you caught Filly."
"I suppose a good father would adamantly and indignantly deny such an awful aspersion on his character and paternal fitness."
"You *Are* a good father. Just ask her. Felicia adores you. Her opinion is the only opinion that really counts," Billie Jean said, hugging me. "All kids do naughty things from time to time. Too many parents act like they were so innocent when they were kids. They punish their kids for doing the same shit they did when they were young."
"They're following their parents' example, and punishing their kids the same way their parents punished them, or would punish them if they got caught," I said. "Passing the hypocrisy from one generation to the next. Like you did when you told Felicia that mothers weren't supposed to discuss doing it with their 8-year-old daughters."
"Your parents weren't successful in passing it on to you," my wife said.
"That's because I didn't respect my parents and their peers. They touted education, but belittled intellectuals as educated idiots, bookworms and eggheads. I found this offensive because all my friends, and other kids at school called me a bookworm, an egghead and a teacher's pet from the time I was in fourth grade. By the time I was thirteen, I knew I was more intelligent than my parents, uncles and aunts; all of whom were ignorant deep-south rednecks."
"Actually," Billie Jean said, "The words ignorant and redneck are interchangeable. They mean the same thing. Calling someone an ignorant redneck is the same as calling him an ignorant ignoramus. Verbal overkill."
Felicia finally bathed and went to bed. We slept until 10 o'clock the next morning. We had a room service brunch of strawberry crepes and mimosas. We spent the rest of Sunday doing mostly nothing. We had spent a hectic month getting our shit together. It would be easy sailing from here on out. No stress. No strain.
In Chapter 3 - Phil catches Felicia and Mr. Parsley in 69, and discovers he's not her first grownup cock...
Let me know if you like my story. I'd love to hear your thoughts, good or bad.