My Desi Maid

Leaving my weapons behind, I walked towards the force field and the pile of decaying zombies that had been cut down by it.The pain was excruciating. I don't know if it was my enhanced responses or what, but it started to hurt the moment I stepped into the field. It was like someone had put a white hot poker between my eyes and into my brains. For a moment I wanted to lie down and die. Worse I wanted to puke my guts out. Thankfully I didn't. I'm pretty certain if I had, the occupants of the centre would have decided I was infected and they would have opened up right away and one of them could have gotten lucky. Instead I pressed on until I reached the front entrance of the hospital and the extreme edge of the force field. At that point the pain disappeared almost as quickly as it had arrived.I was met at the doors leading into the hospital by two men armed with side arms and that was it. They looked like a cross between somebody's idea of stand-ins in a bad war movie and rent-a-cops. Many of the wives received such a fucking from their husbands that, by the end of it, left them completely satisfied.These wives had strong, athletic or relatively fit husbands who were full of vigour. Their husbands hungered for them, wanting to devour them as soon as the hotel door was shut. As well as this hunger, they also possessed a certain endurance that went along with their vigour. These husbands would slide their wives up and down their shafts until they were bathed in slaver.These wives would moan as they were penetrated deep, bodies convulsing, as wave after wave of orgasm coursed through them. The faces of these wives, these satisfied wives, all had a common look: they were awestruck by their husbands.Emma didn’t know it yet, but she was not going to be one of these wives. She was going to be one of the other wives, the unsatisfied wives. These wives loved their husbands, but they were let down by them.Either the husband had forgotten his wife's original beauty, the zest.
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