She moaned in my mouth as she submitted to my forceful touch. I was high on my control over Lydia. I wasn’t quite ready to tell my slutty wife I kne... how she spent her morning. I only smiled knowingly as I re-grasped her hair and forced her down to her knees. Lydia’s hands shook as I ordered her to open my pants. I began to tell her what a slutty girl she was as she worked my pants and underwear down to my ankles. My wife looked up at me with an uneasy expression on her face as I rubbed my. She thought back and remembered how thankful she had been that she had been allowed to keep her skirt down and how she had prayed that the thigh marks would be hidden by the dark blue material when she returned to her classroom some ten minutes later after a quick trip to the toilet to look at the damage. She had been eighteen then and ten years had elapsed without anything remotely like it happening to her. She suddenly remembered that when she was in the toilet on that far-off day, twisting. More

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