With them—you understand.It was the girl. She had her legs spread all the way apart. I might be able to do that with my weight holding me down, like...a cheerleader. She was doing it casually. Anyway, there was a long shot, getting all the bruises. Then there were detail shots from ankle to ankle. That scene was three nights ago and you can still count the stripes.Tuesday, I said that Mistress Cynthia did not draw blood, but that wasn't quite true. I should have said the skin never parted. Some. And he wasn’t out with those American whores he usually dated from school.This didn’t make me a slut. Just a good mother.I shrugged out of my bathrobe, letting it fall into a bundle around my feet, unveiling my naked body. I felt so wicked as I opened the door, a good wife and mother pretending to be a little slut like Leyla. I shivered, my pussy itching so badly as I slipped into Faizel’s room. I spotted his form on his bed, his chest painted in silver band by the light streaming through his. More

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