He looks up at me again, with that fire in his eyes…and I know he means it. Our clothes seem to fall off, with no real effort from either of us. We...are languid, but there’s still that need surrounding us. There is energy and tension, all wrapped up in a layer of silken familiarity. Secure yet dangerous, an addictive mixture. I fall back onto the pillow of our clothes as he is sliding off my panties. The feeling of the soft cotton sliding down my legs puts me in a further state of absolute. "I don't care if you are the Reverend's wife, you should be torn limb from limb. You had no right to seduce my kid brother, he's just a baby compared to you. You should be ashamed of yourself. Cunt!"Melissa remained calm; she had no intention of getting involved in a screaming fight or a hair-pulling match, and her calmness pissed me off."Let me ask you this, Ms. Underwood. Which one of you is fucking my husband?" Which one?" Yes. You or your mother?" What does it matter? We know all about you. More

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