Desi Wife Fucking Her Husband 2

"You've got to be k**ding me," I said to myself. I scampered down the hallway and peeked in. Now all I could see was a pair of legs waving in the air and the pumping ass of my darling, beloved, no good son-of-a-bitch husband as he pounded her. And oh yeah, I saw the video camera mounted on its tripod recording the entire thing. It was out in the open so apparently he was only sneaking around on me. The recordings were only secret from me.Recordings? Could there be? Was he really that confident of himself or was he even dumber than I thought. Back down the hall I ran. I couldn't believe they hadn't heard my comings and goings, but then they were rather busy.I stuck my face inside the cabinet we kept our tapes, including the unmarked one we had made that day. When my hands reached the back wall I found not only that one, but three other tapes stacked with it. None of them had labels. A quick trip to the trunk of my car found three blank replacements. I put them in the sleeves of the. " Jonathan's hopeless whimper and the fact that he had once again soiled himself from pure fear confirmed the professor's assumptions. The professor continued, anger straining his voice: "I had planned to play around with you for a few more days so you will soon come to appreciate the very real cost of upsetting my plans." If Jonathan hadn't already wet himself, he would have done so now. He had no idea how the professor could hurt him more than he already had, but he had no doubts that he could. A very stern look on his face, the professor pointed the way to his car and Jonathan found himself walking docilely towards slavery, his free will removed by the professor without the slightest bit of effort.Jonathan could see people going about their everyday lives, making their own decisions, being in control of their lives, yet here he was without control of any kind. He didn't even have the strength to call for help. He knew that it was hopeless. The professor had already proven his.
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