No, I could hardly take offense; I could not claim that she left me with no pride. I had sacrificed that for the sake of our tenuous relationship. She...looked over at me and noticed. "Ginny, are you looking at my feet, sweetie?" "Oh no, Jan, I was, er, just looking down at the carpet." "Oh, I think you like my feet, don't you, Ginny?" "Well, Jan, your feet are certainly pretty, no one could deny your feet are pretty.." She said, "thank you, sweetie." I noticed she opened her legs just enough. ‘Don’t you dare laugh,’ he heard her telepathic words of admonishment. They stopped, waiting before they got to the desk. She peeked around the corner and when the time was right, she hauled him by the arm — walking faster than before, until they were out the door. It was almost four o’clock in the morning. There was hardly any traffic. He couldn’t transform himself — he hadn’t learned how it was done. Her instincts for direction helped her in knowing where they were — about twenty miles. And his wife’s reactioncertainly hadn’t helped any. But, once again he felttotally helpless, knowing there was no way out exceptto co-operate. John felt like a new recruit responding to a drillsergeant, trying to please him. He closed his eyes andtook a deep breath. “Fuck my slut wife, please fuck herbrains out,” he practically shouted. “The fuckinglittle cunt deserves it. She wants it. She wants yourblack cock. Every inch of it!” The words had no soonerleft. Looked into my eyes straight. This was the first eye contact we were making during this session. I could not trace any shades of shyness or modesty there. In the depths of her dark eyes I could see lust. Pure and undiluted thirst.I did not see my mother-in-law there. She did not look at her son-in-law either. It was just a woman looking into a man’s eyes. No relationships existed there. No taboo. No sin. Nothing. Only sexual desire.Her frontal body looked voluptuous. Her breasts very bit saggy.
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