"Can all the mushy love crap, and fuck me." "Yes, my lady," he moaned, placing his hands on my boobs right over my nipples. "Fuck you; I'll praise you...whenever I damn well want to, please." "Very well, master," I giggled, placing his hands on his stomach. He pushed himself to make his wood go into my pussy as deep as possible in that position. After another moment, I didn't have to move even an inch for my jugs to flop around again. He made the spectacle happen just with his movements. In no. Her hands were wringing each other incessantly. I decided to go along. She drove us to the warehouse where my wife worked and took us in a door I did not know existed. She took us on a catwalk above the floor of the warehouse. She signaled to me to be silent and led me to a corner and urged me to look down. I saw two people fucking. ‘That is my husband,’ she whispered. ‘Is that your wife?’ I nodded yes. I guess I should have been irate, or devastated, but I was simply embarrassed. She led me to. More

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