“There, isn’t that better?”
“Thanks, Belinda,” I groaned. You shouldn’t be thinking that, hoping for it. Bhabhi I was Mark’s slut, and a good slut takes it up the ass, or at least that’s what Jodie Miller always said. This isn’t funny, Ernard!” But my suddenly whipped husband, by some little bitch of a peckerwood no less, just kept right on jogging. Ernard! “Ever fucked your wife’s ass?”
“No!” Of course my husband hadn’t, that was nasty. And Oscar, my husband, was enjoying the results almost nightly, now. I hugged her, rubbing my big breasts against her perky tits, and kissed her pouty lips, slipping a little tongue into my daughter-slut. I fled into the kitchen, but I wasn’t fast enough and he caught me, pushing me against the island counter in the center of the kitchen, bending me over it, his hand stroking my ass.
