It was not a forced marriage. I conceded willingly. It was a marriage of political import…that I looked forward to as a means of escape. Do not get ...e wrong readers, It was by no means a happy consent from my side, It was just that a wife enjoyed a different kind of freedom, one that would never be allowed to a daughter. As is the fashion of a good writer ,I should indulge you with some details. I had been a source of constant worry to my esteemed household since the day I first learnt to. .” she said as the tape played on. I watched as closely as I could. The guy was wanking himself up to the cumshot and after a few seconds shot his load onto her face. The whole scene lasted no more than a couple of minutes, if that. “Well??? Spot anything odd about that?” she asked.“Not really. But what am I looking for??”“Thought you were good at spotting little details” she said, as she wound the tape back again. “Now watch again.... and look carefully....”I watched and this time I tried to. She looked straight at me with a beet red face and suddenly her mouth went wide open when he put his mouth over her right breast and started to suck it. She went to grab his head, but he was so quick that he latched onto the other breast and started sucking on her now rock hard nipples. He put the microphone under her shirt and started mumbling, saying he couldn’t talk now since his mouth was so full. He then pulled his head out from under her shirt and in between his teeth was her black lace. They wanted to know where she stood, how sexually liberated she was. Shawn hadn't yet broken the news to them that Cindy was a cocksucker, a bugger- girl, a lover of dogs and horses. He was in the house, taking a shower. Cindy imagined him beating off his soaped-up prick, and she squeezed her legs together as contractions sent fuck-itch through her pussy."Oh?" Cindy said, her tone suggestive. "What might Buck do?"She rubbed a bare foot up and down her bare leg. She was relaxing in a lounge.
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