Too long if me memory serves he right!’ he thought with a little grin on his face and a little bulge in his pants. As he crossed the road, he gave a...wolf whistle and the woman turned her head and looked at who gave it, she’d been getting them all day in those tight jeans and white top, through which everybody could see her black bra. As she turned she saw his face and then realised why the wolf whistle. As she saw his face it brought back so many memories of their time. ‘Oh god was he good, in. Mistress's instructions not to think ran through her mind. She had to calm down, she had to show she was worthy, she had to show that she could be a better slave, more obedient, more compliant, more willing than this interloper.?Now then, slut-slave, why don't you tell dirt-bag just what you are?? Mistress suggested.?I'm a whore, I'm a slut, I'm a harlot. I am not worthy to lick Mistress's boots? Angela began. This was a litany she knew by heart. ?I'm a bitch in heat, driven by my animal need. More

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