I turned to watch her move from the table across the kitchen, her body lush and seemingly hypnotic in the way she swayed her hips. I shook my head har... to come back to reality. I'm gay, I'm gay, I'm gay. I was chanting the words in my head, the erection in my pants clearly oblivious to my mantra. "I know you're gay, Brian. No need to chant it, sweetie." "Huh? Was I?" My face burned. "How gay are you?" Cynthia was asking me now as she continued to clear the table. I laughed. "According to your. He grew in my mouth to his full size. He was literally a foot long (we measured it at another time) and so thick I could not fit my hand around it. I was mesmerized.Just then, my husband walked in. I had never felt like this before. Here I was on my knees with a young k**'s horse cock in my mouth, my clothes half off, my hair mussed, I could practically smell my self as my wetness increased. On top of that here was my handsome, masculine, alpha husband who basically agreed to be a submissive. That’s not what fate intended, but I made those changes for the good of our family. I’d do it again, and fuck the rest of the world. ‘Scuse my French.”He had been playing God. I was only just beginning to understand the enormity of that. The bad language hardly even registered.“I’m not saying we can’t do something about Jimmy Savile, or try to make the world better. But unless it’s for the good of our family, we always need to look at the possible outcomes and judge whether intervening would. But it’s great news for the salvage industry, isn’t it?” Anne laughed at her own isolation from her native land due to the distance and constant disruption of the global internet.“That’s probably true everywhere, I imagine,” I conceded as we finished scrubbing and headed to the mess tent together.“Hey, Chief, Ralph, did you hear the latest?” Sam asked us as he sat down with us.“No, love, do tell,” Anne asked her fiance with a passionate kiss.“Yes, by all means, brief us!” I chuckled, though.
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