That was a question that she never even put to him, let alone had it answered for that evening, just after tea she was hit with the second ‘whammy�.... “Karen I’m leaving you”.For almost a minute she sat stunned in the chair and it was only when the reality of the statement hit her did she respond. “You’re … you’re leaving me … why? What have I done?” Her husband just smiled as he got up and then in a quiet voice said words that were like a two sided blade, cut her to the core. “Have you had a. The MC announces to the crowd that. "The genealogical chair was tilted slightly to keep Mr. Marcus cum inside the fertile wife so that the husband can have the whole cream pie." The crowd laughs uncontrollably. I am totally mortified. What am I going to do? The MC further states that, "I want some audience participation. We are going to scream at the cuckold 5 times eat the pie, eat the pie and after the fifth time the chair will tilt forward releasing Mr. Marcus spunk and the wife's cunt. I leaned down and kissed her lightly. When I pulled back, her hands moved to my hair and pulled me back down. She pressed her lips roughly to mine and lingered. When I’d had enough of not tasting her, I licked her upper lip. She pulled back immediately and gave me a shy smile. ‘Thank you, Ben. For what you did. I know we’re not friends and I know you don’t like me, so I really appreciate you swooping in like that.’ What? She climbed off of my bike and turned to walk away. ‘I didn’t mean it,’ I. Charity had placed three plates of her scraps finely diced on the floor next to one another.“I didn’t know what or how you ate, so I did my best. I am sorry if it was wrong, Sir,” Charity addressed Mike about the slave food.“Typically, you don’t put anything in a slave’s bowl. You wait and serve the table, and at the end, we’ll decide if you eat,” Mike said as he sat down.“I am so sorry!” Charity apologized again. She bent at the waist, revealing her turnip shaped buttplug as she did and poured.