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‘What on earth are you doing?’ ‘I’m stripping the bed.’ ‘Why? To what possible purpose could you be stripping the bed?’ ‘So I can do the laundry. After you take your shower, of course.’ Where was I? Who was this man? He looked like my husband but his behavior was aberrant. There was only one possible explanation. He was having an affair! I moved in a daze to the bathroom. No, there was another possible explanation. I was dreaming. After my shower, the insanity continued. He came into the bathroom, gathered up my towel and the clothes from the hamper and disappeared out the door. I put on my makeup and entered the bedroom to look for a sweat suit so that I could begin my busy day. There was so much to do. But there he was, smiling, cheerful. ‘No sweat suit today, honey. Get dressed up. Go shopping. Go get a facial. Relax. Do whatever you want. I’m going to take care of the kids today.’ ‘But the house is a mess.’ ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out. Go. Enjoy.’ Had I. Her clothes folded neatly on the floor. She came into my arms and we kissed. She helped me undress kissing skin as it was exposed. When she took my cock in her mouth Donna moaned in humiliation and closed her eyes.I reached over and gently squeezed her nose closed. Her eyes popped open and tears ran down her cheeks. Megan deep throated me, over and over. Between thrusts she said, "You're incredible. I love how your big cock feels in my mouth."She got up and went to Donna, kissing Donna's tits with her wet mouth, leaving my pre-cum and her saliva on Donna's breasts.Donna watched as I positioned Megan on the bed so Donna could see my face in Donna's open pussy. She watched me as I ate Megan to two screaming orgasms. Megan kept telling me how good a lover I was and how I touched her in ways no one ever had. I reached inside her and fingered her g-spot until she soaked the bed. Donna sobbed. I turned Megan and made slow passionate love to her, building to a mutual orgasm. In my head I.
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He doubted it. Bars were where people talked. But they weren’t talking and he couldn’t push it. Couldn’t be too aggressive. His many covert missions had taught him to be patient. Hope for luck.Steele gulped down the remainder of his beer, slapped a five-dollar bill on the bar, and spun his stool around. As he stood, a large black man in denim overalls, work boots, and muscles bulging from a short-sleeve plaid shirt entered from the street.“Get out of here, boy,” the bartender said.The black man stopped. “You talking to me?”“See any other boy in here?”“You gotta be shitting me. Who the fuck are you calling boy?”One of the men at the table stood up. “You, nigger.”The black man charged. He leaped over the table with arms extended, crashing into the man like a linebacker tackling a quarterback. The table toppled over. The chair fell to the floor, breaking apart from the weight of the two men. The black man, on top, smashed his fist into the white man’s face. Even from where Steele stood,.

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