’ I smiled at that and thought I might also be after her body. I sampled several and bought a couple of jars. As we finished the transaction I said,...‘Does the pickle lady have a name?’ ‘Polly,’ she replied, ‘Polly Pickle.’ ‘Seriously?’ ‘Yep. I married a man named Pickle. He was of Italian descent and I believe the original family name was Piccolo but, as so often happened, it was shortened when his ancestors arrived at Ellis Island. Apparently the person who registered them had a sense of. She served, I met the ball and swatted it so hard, she hadn’t even moved as the ball swept past her……….“0-1” I yelled.She picked up the ball in unnerving silence and served again, Once again I hit the ball so hard that it went past her ear without her able to react to it.“0-2, Can you feel my cum inside you whore???” I taunted her.The following 15 minutes of the game were the hardest in both our lives, Taunts, jibes and insults flowed across the room.The score was tied 14-14, Both of us were. More

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