Beth continued to hold Hannah firmly by the hair so that her face remained in shot of the camera. My husband, now in position, pushed his cock against...the entrance of her arse. Her screams became louder as she felt the pain from his forced entrance. “That’s the tip in.” Beth said to her “Just another eight inches or so to go.” Hannah became hysterical. “Your face looks so pretty full of fear and pain. This will make a great film.” My husband pushed further into Hannah’s arse telling me to fuck. I've got it, I thought to myself! The next morning, when my husband went off to work, I made a call to a distant acquaintance of ours from school that managed the local Hooters that my husband and his golfing buddies have been hanging out at. “Sure, come on in, it will be a real trip, and we’ll catch up,” our manager friend said. It’s not that I don’t trust my husband, though I don’t trust any of his buddies, for I've seen and heard how they behave when out as a group. I figured, instead of. More

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