Superhot Bull Fucking Wife And Cuckold Hubby Recording

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She's had me on a diet since she took over my life. I've lost fifteen pounds so far. She wants me to lose another fifteen pounds.After dinner, we go down to the basement where Mistress Angela shackles me in leather wrist restraints hanging from the ceiling and leather ankle restraints chained to the floor. She whips my back and legs with a leather flogger and paddles my bottom with a wooden paddle. Afterwards, she locks me in a lounger throne I built for her. She takes off her shoes, pants, and panties, and relaxes with her dewy pussy inches from my face while she watches TV. After she's finished watching TV, she unlocks me from the throne and goes to bed. I sleep on her old double bed in the basement while she has the upstairs three rooms of the townhouse to herself.I clean the townhouse, do the shopping, and run errands on the weekends. On Friday and Saturday nights, Mistress Angela shackles me in her bedroom. I stand and watch while she gets dressed and goes out clubbing. She. " Barely sounds good," he quipped, moving his hand down my back to caress one buttock. His hand moved gently over my backside, swirling slightly to catch the curves. "May I have your permission to touch skin?" Yes," I chuckle, "of course you may touch skin."His fingers were sneaking under my nightshirt before I'd even finished speaking. They were warm with that inner heat he always seems to carry around with him, but his caresses were sparking fires that would blaze much hotter. Over and around my butt and back they swirled, moving faster now to a cadence I could only feel through his touch. Then suddenly, as if the song had ended, his hand stopped, cupping one side of my butt. He let out a low, barely audible groan."Oh, this feels so good, " he muttered to himself. He gently squeezed one cheek, then the other. The he brushed his fingers lightly into that crevice between my legs, tickling my pubic hairs. I rolled completely onto my stomach, opening my legs slightly to allow him better.
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He was even asked to judge events from other levels when an impartial voice was needed.Wayne didn’t have an office or even a courtroom. If he was available, he could be found at the intersection of the five corridors for his level. There was no judge’s chair. Wayne would sit on the benches that had been placed in the plaza at the intersection. To his right was the ramp leading up to the next level. On the left was the ramp leading down.The intersection itself was a spacious area. Arranged at various spots were the local vendors. These were people who had established kiosks and stalls where various items were available. Everything from clothing and jewelry to foods and pastries. Wayne’s wife usually had a table on her off days where she would sell pastries and loaves of bread. She had a sourdough starter that had been handed down to her by her mother, who got it from her mother. To hear Jane talk, the starter had originated on old earth San Francisco during the original gold rush. Of.

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