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I left Alice working two fingers around her asshole, desperately trying to loosen it up for the cock that was soon to be entering it. I pulled out of Fiona then nudged it back at her entrance, her bottom entrance. Time for a nice hard ass fuck Fiona I slammed home slapping my swinging bollocks against her puffy pussy lips over and over as my meat ripped into her, forcing yelps of pleasure from Fiona. Listen to your mum Alice she loves it, shell be coming again soon. I wasnt wrong Fiona came twice in fifteen minutes as I gave her arse a proper pounding, Fiona was spent and collapsed on her front on the sofa. Her legs were slightly spread showing me her well reamed out cunt and asshole. Her thighs were sticky from come and pussy juice and her face was crusty from her earlier coating. Total fucking filth thats what you are Fiona , total fucking filth Right then Alice you little slut, are you ready to become a proper fucking whore like your mum? Ha ha of course you are. Fiona sit up and. The human puppy sits up and stretches, before standing to browse through the refrigerator. She picks a few things, and then goes and turns on the oven. Slowly chopping and mixing ingredients, she stands fully naked, leashed to a wall, cooking her master’s food happily. She hums a little tune, and doesn’t notice him watching her from the door. She puts something in the oven, and starts to mix something else, also putting that in the oven, and setting a timer. She smiles and starts to sing softly, as she takes the dirty dishes, and begins to wash them. Putting the dishes away, she pulls a clean plate out of the cupboard, and places it on the table with a fork. Pulling the food from the oven, she puts two cornbread muffins, and a stuffed bell pepper on the plate, and turns to call her master, only to notice he had been watching. She blushes, and pulls a chair out for him, setting a glass with ice, by the plate, not knowing what he would want to drink. She leaves the rest of the warm.
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She was smiling. She blew me a kiss and at that, I hammered into the encore with that familiar fat sound. The band kicked in and we soared. Water She stared at the painting. He’d done her in oil, a classic pose. Those were good times, when they biked and enjoyed lazy afternoons at the ballpark watching their mediocre double A team. They’d met at a jazz concert and shared a heat that refused to fade. Outside, storm clouds gathered. She stared at the painting and a single tear escaped. He was coming home after seven months over there, but not with the warmth of life. Wine I strolled through the wine side. Soft classical music drifted from overhead speakers. Walking past the sample bar I overheard words like ‘legs,’ ‘oaky’ and ‘cat pee.’ I pushed through the door to the crowded beer side where the bartender was pouring small glasses and heard him say, ‘And this one is called Dog Sled!’ People began barking and shouting, ‘Who let the dogs out…’ I was home. Through the window, on the.

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