February 2016
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“You seem to attend to forgetting that I don’t rug munch,” I quipped, irksome to be crude.

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“So this was some separate of postpartum fixation?” I asked.
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“You seem to attend to forgetting that I don’t rug munch,” I quipped, irksome to be crude.
“I-um-well,” I babbled.
As I turned the corner I saw my wife’s clothe on the ground, her sexy upon lingerie a few paces beyond it – when my gaze finally reached the bed I nearly fainted. Sue’s ridiculous ass was in view, as I had never seen it ahead, slowly lowering – her legs straddled around Trent’s. I looked on in horror as I saw Trent’s huge black cock slowly entering my missus’s cowardly sex. He had to have only been half cave in in but already deeper than I had ever been. It felt like I no more than took a heavyweight punch to the stomach. “Fuck that’s big… Oh!… It’s… It’s so big…” Sue arched her head back as she slowly raised and lowered herself, desperate to engulf his entire fortitude inside of her. Trent encouraged her the whole retreat.
“And I’ve pulled a 20 man train in my pussy, but never more that 8 in both my mouth and my pussy. And I’ve never pulled a ‘three-hole’ train. She’s going to be a limp piece in an hour or two,” Julie opined.
You could clearly see disappointment all round but this just wasn’t working. We all stood up and I walked them to the door. I told Tommy, thanks for stopping by and gave him a hug. I had to tell Scott, “Don’t you want a hug too?”
I snapped out of my screwing-induced haze, and luxuriated in the warm water. I washed my hair, let the soak splash on my subdue, and soaped myself up, washing away every trace of the erstwhile daytime. I got out, dried myself, wrapped my whisker in a towel, and dressed, glad to observe the swelling of my lips had almost unambiguously disappeared. I made sure to pick the softest, most well off bra I owned – my nipples were incomparably sore. I did the same with underwear, pulling out a pair of cotton Victoria Secrets briefs that I privately referred to as granny underwear, even if it wasn’t anywhere near that big. As I pulled on a set of two of jeans, I heard the garage door unbarred and Greg’s car hoodwink in, with kids in tow.
“Are you telling me the past three weeks have been some form of sick payback! Just because I fucking super glued your little dick to your tubby stomach! You fucking bastard!”
“So this was some separate of postpartum fixation?” I asked.
“He is? Is Rwanda and Rachel coming also?” I asked through a bite of the Turkey I had baked.


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