The boy was a mirror image of his father, Don Gerard Cassini, a dark curly hair, olive skin, short statue, and slightly overweight for a 10 year old.T...e daughter was something else all told. She was tall, slender, blond, fair skinned, and blue eyed. Behind the man's back it was rumored that she was not his daughter, but that of a personal trainer the wife had once hired. This was only whispered because the trainer disappeared shortly after the wife gave birth.This is probably why the wife. Looking down I realized my heels just didn't work, kicking them off and slipping on some six-inch pointed stiletto thigh-high stretch boots.'You nasty bitch,' I said to myself, spinning my hips as the faux leather squeaked. 'I can't meet him like this,' I thought, reaching back inside the wardrobe to grab a long ladies' overcoat that hid my outfit perfectly.Before Jackson arrived, I cleaned up the room and packed a bag with some important items. I sat shaking on the bed. I was really nervous. She said that the girls should be prepared to get at least thirty cocks shoved into them that day and that probably ten of them would be up their ass.I looked at my wife in an entirely different way now. This gorgeous women that I thought was faithful to me ever since our wedding vows was no longer the woman I had married. At first I was outraged. I had never once suspected anything out of the ordinary. Then I felt a tingling of pride. My wife had willing sacrificed herself sexually to benefit. ‘But the alarm on your Blackberry did. Way to hit snooze four times, Jay.’ He grinned as he finished tying his shoes. Only Anna could make him feel like a jackass first thing in the morning. ‘Sorry,’ he said, standing up. ‘I hate getting up early.’ ‘I know.’ Anna sat up, hugging her knees to her underneath the plush, almost obscenely bright-white comforter on the bed. ‘And yet you still decided to become a baker,’ she pointed out, tucking some loose hair behind her ear. ‘You’d think after all.