She found her hips swaying, a smile on her face. There was a dull, aching throb in her asshole, but it was a delicious feeling.Rich had fucked her in ...he ass the night before until she could take no more. Her asshole wasn't sore, but ached pleasantly.Turning back to her housework, she fantasized about fucking her son while being observed by others. To be seen while fucking her son, or sucking his sweet cock, was a wild turn-on for her.She put the vacuum cleaner away, then with a giggle, she. Well, not totally, but it was better to be passive and agreeable than argue. And most of the time, I didn't particularly care one way or another. That's part of the problem right there. I didn't care.Shit. Jenny must be right. I am a closed book. So if that's the problem, the obvious solution is let myself open up. To get beyond the simple expedient of being 'the boyfriend' and allowing them to see the real me, which is terrifying to contemplate.Why was that such a scary thought? Fear of. More

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