Mallu Aunty Sex Scene 2

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............. SWISH!!! And her ass exploded as if on fire. The huge orgasm was replaced by searing agony.Pain rushed through her nervous system from her toes to the top of here head and she screamed in a mixture of tears, fear and rage.Who owns you slut, asked Troya softly?FUCK YOU! Lisa spat back.SWISH!!! And her ass exploded again. Two pink lines appearing across her butt.Lisa screamed again. Longer this time.Who owns you slut, asked Troya again?Stop hurting me, begged Lisa.SWISH!!! And a welt appeared on the backs of her thighs.Please stop.Who owns you slut, asked Troya?Lisa didn’t answer.SWISH!!! And another welt appeared on the backs of her thighs.This time Lisa screamed in tears. You do Mistress!!Troya turned both vibrators on full and gently caressed Lisa’s ass with the leather crop.Good girl.The orgasm rushed back into Lisa’s psyche and she came and came and came. The pain/pleasure mixture was almost more than her body could take and she collapsed. Thank you Mistress.Troya. Because I could tell that my wife and my boss wanted privacy, I quietly began to pack a small suit case, so that I could spend the night in a hotel.I told myself that my wife was taking birth control pills, so she could not get pregnant. I told myself that my wife loved me, and that my boss loved his wife, so my marriage was secure. I told myself that I loved my wife, so I wanted her to enjoy the pleasure and happiness my boss could give her.I also realized that from then on I would be sharing my wife with my boss on a regular basis. Perhaps I would also be sharing her with his prominent friends and business associates. When one of my boss's friends visited the city where we lived he would enjoy a night on the town with my wife, and an evening of love making with her. A threesome with my wife would be a delightful way to celebrate an important business agreement. The thought of that made me jealous. It also excited me, while filling me with pride. I have learned to live with.
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In this way she passed two hours, and spent the next hour cleaning up the “mess” she had made on her hard wood floor. Next she made her way to the wash room, not quiet in need of another shower she did take the time to wash herself up. She then turned the television to a more “appropriate” channel, and began running on the tread mill. Not enough to overly exert herself, but just fast enough to make it a long distance challenge. About an hour later she stopped, took an drink of water, and retrieved her rifle. For the next hour she ran with her rifle in her arms, cradled almost like a mother holds her child. After that hour passed she decided she had killed enough time, collapsed her rifle, packed her gear and headed out. A little extra time sitting at her perch wasn't going to do her any harm. She figured as she headed out the door. She made her way down to the garage and tossed her bag into the passenger side of her 1967 Chevy Impala. Not the most inconspicuous vehicle, but in this.

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