FB 5

She wanted to stop, but I had not finished. I made her stand with one leg on the basin, and we fucked standing. We kept on fucking for a long time till we both came together. She was exhausted and wanted to sleep. But I made her sit on the potty and brought her my old beard trimmer. “Shave your underarms and cunt. I don’t want to see any body-hair from now on,” I told her. “What will I tell my husband when he sees me ?” She was asking.“Don’t worry,” I said, “The chutney is drunk most of the time and hardly ever fucks you.” I made her cunt and underarms smooth. She was so tired that she turned on her side and slept. I also slept for a while. When I woke up I saw her sleeping naked and I started getting hard again. So I pushed her on her stomach and started mounting her from behind. I pulled her into the doggy position and entered her. She was still dry and shouted in pain. As I kept hammering her from behind. She started getting wet and she was enjoying it. I spread her ass cheeks. I watched the waiter approach Claudette, saw her blanch, stalk across the room and then heard her yell at the manager. I quickly took her arm, led her to my table and sat her down, sputtering and red-faced. "Sanderson, right?" I asked.She nodded, and I flipped on my phone, found the story and showed her. She shook her head and sobbed, "It can't be true." I saw them towing a Corvette Stingray from the lot as I came in; yours I believe, the yellow one."She nodded and wiped away tears. I had seen her in it, a great car. At eighteen she was broke; she had gone from the status of a rich woman to a poor beggar in less than an hour. Her home, car, clothes and jewelry had been taken, her credit cards voided. She was a lovely young widow with nothing but her beauty. But that, of course, was worth a lot to the right people.She had married Michael Sanderson, only son of Jefferson Samuelson the now-disgraced entrepreneur, about a year ago when she was seventeen and he was twenty-four. He and his.
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