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I heard someone say "what the fuck!!!!" I got scared and started to run...in heels yeah right! And this guy came out with a bat and yelled "freeze bitch!!!! Oh shit! Yo, Ron! Come out here!" The big black three men came out and surrounded me, taunting me! They were wearing nothing but shorts, I guess they were working out and wow, they all looked soo muscular and perfect!"Wanna workout with us girl!" One of them pulled is shorts down and showed me his awesome ass and another guy spanked it lol! They're gay, I thought! They couldn't be too bad of guys. SO I said ok! I went into the gym with them and it was just like a shitty room with weights. I sat and watched and started getting alittle horny, they could lift alot! I thought! One of them finally grabbed me and looked at me and said "you know what I like after a workout baby?" I asked what? "A nice massage...." The he dropped his shorts, laid back on a bench and all I saw in front of me, between his huge thighs was a. ” Silence, “Shit, there they are.” And then another pause, and an unmistakable sigh and moan as a now apparently safely sheathed cock found its way home.My hand had found its way into my wife’s panties. She asked, “Is that the dark haired one?” I circled her clit as her fingers brushed the length of my cock and collected my precum.“Yes, I think her name is Julie” I licked my precum from her fingertip, and opened her lips with my own middle finger and pushed inside. She rutted against my hand, “I think that Julie is getting fucked.”I pulled my dripping hand from her pussy and positioned myself between her legs. She pulled my hand to her face and wantonly sucked her own juices. I smiled, “I think Sarah is getting fucked too.”“We won’t be needing a condom,” as she guided the tip of my cock up and down her doorway.“Not much use now.” I held her hand flat against her belly as I pushed deep inside her now always wet pregnant pussy. My wife now began her own moaning. I reached my hand under.
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‘Humph,’ he said. I waited, keeping my hands in my lap and sitting straight. I refrained from allowing my eyes to wander. ‘Are you married, Mr. Petriani?’ he asked without raising his head. ‘Not now.’ He hesitated, then looked up, eyeing me from over the top of his wire rimmed glasses. His unspoken question was obvious. ‘An accident. A truck dumped its load. She and the kids . . .’ The recollections were too fresh and my voice broke. My mind screamed for him to stay out of my personal affairs but I bit my tongue and held my voice. I could not run from my memories. Wilson pursed his lips, studied my face, and then resumed reading while drumming his fingers. This irritated me and I wondered if he knew it. ‘There is a gap in your work history. What have you been doing for the past year or so, since June of ’47?’ ‘I’d rather not say. And it is immaterial to the position I’m applying for.’ His head remained down but I sensed that he’d stopped reading to contemplate my answer. ‘You are.

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