Anjali’s only response was a low groan, like an animal. I tightened my grip on her waist and slowly eased my cock out of her ass. “You love this, ...ren’t you, bitch? You’ve needed an arse fucking for so fucking long isn’t that right, Anjali?” When my cock almost emerged from her body I rammed it back in causing her to scream. “That’s it bitch, that’s a good slut. Take the big cock in your slut married arse, that’s a good girl”, I whispered, her tightness forcing spasms of pleasure through my. What they didn't know is that when I was home alone, I would start todress a little, borrowing my sister's clothes(both were older) and evenwould pretend to smoke a cigarette. I found myself mesmeised by sight ofme in the mirror smoking and leaving the traces of lipstick on the end ofthe cigarette.But as I got older, I stayed away form that as growing up in the 60;s and70;s this was not part of my world, so I hid it way down inside.When I went to college I found myself attracted to strong. We could argue now and again but they weren't fights. We've fought once before, it was a one sided fight like this one. I could tell I managed to get under his skin this time. Just for a moment I could see the spark but he he turned his back on me. Leaving him with his back turned I stormed to the bedroom closing the door behind me. Tears stung my eyes as I tried to catch my breath. He walked into the bathroom and closed the door. The shower turned on and I slumped to the floor. My entire. This wasn't Saturday morning though, and the farm hand must have been doing some drinking on his own. He didn't seem to be drunk, as he had dropped from the top bunk and walked to her with a steady movement, despite the limp. He was squeezing her ass with both hands, massaging her cheeks. Pushing against his chest with her arms, Missy silently resisted, afraid someone, another farm hand perhaps, would come to pay a visit to the outhouses nearby, and hear.He was very strong, and placed Missy's.