You kick off your shoes, and I take your hand and lead you into the living room, where there is a bottle of white zinfandel wine breathing and two gla...ses. A fire is lit in the fireplace, because, despite the fact that it is spring, there is still a chill in the air. I urge you to sit in the recliner so you can put your feet up, but you opt for the sofa, so we can sit next to each other. You put your stockinged feet up on the coffee table. I sit down beside you and curl my feet underneath. She left her breakfast and ran to the lounge grabbing an album of old photographs. She compared the photographs of her husband when he was twenty with the picture in the newspaper."Could it be possible after all this time?"Both her and her husband had spent a lot of money over the past years trying to trace her abandoned baby son, the baby that she had foolishly abandoned as soon as it was born. The searches had been totally ineffective and they had both become quite despondent. She knew that. I reached for my dick, held it by my right hand, shook it in the air for a few times and poured honey on my cock tip and her ass. I gently placed it at the entrance of her asshole and got ready to fuck her ass. Then I slid it slowly inside her asshole. It went inch by inch like a piston and got fully buried. Putting a finger in her pussy as a prelude to my prick, I moved it in and out; and thrust my cock back and forth repeatedly inside her asshole. Reema stammered, “oh! That’s great. Move your. “I’m ready for whatever you feel is necessary, sir. ” “Crawl over to me, whore, and get your collar on like a good doggie.” Feeling more than awkward, she hurried to comply, her tits swaying ridiculously as she covered the 10 feet or so across the room to where he stood. Back on her knees, she waited. “Good girl,” he exclaimed, patting her head. As he worked the collar around her neck, he laid out some of the rules. “Once this collar is fastened, you don’t speak unless spoken to. You.
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