After making sure she had my full attention, she said, “I have a rule.” I was just dying to know what her rule was, hoping it was a fun rule, or ...t least not a rule that would end what she was doing to me at that very moment. I wanted to ask about her rule, beg her to tell me, respond in some encouraging way or adult way. But I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t even breathe. I’d lost the power of speech and of respiration, all in instant. So I just stood there, pressing my cock, through my pants,. You can be happy with me. Do you know how??Her tone was mild and pleasant. I knew what she wanted me to tell her, again. This time I wasn’t so confident as to pledge myself. My response was tempered by my hour of suffocation. Thinking about it made my breath quicken. It was strange being so turned on while my lungs were burning for oxygen. I recalled the wedge of my nose, lips, and chin being shoved into the tight crevice of her ass. ?By being yours.??Yes. It’s obvious you enjoy. Nothing helped. Regardless of what I did time passed slowly.Eventually it did pass. At 5:15 I heard the door from the garage open. Leanne called, “Petey, we're home.”I sat quietly in the den. While I was hoping for an accord, I was still angry.I heard them go into the bedroom. A moment later Leanne poked her head into the den and saw me sitting on our love seat. Randy was standing behind her holding their bags. She said, “You are here. Why didn't you answer me?”“Would you have cared?”“Of course. I get home, plug in the gopro and it was a disaster, she had the camera aimed at her neck and below, even times where she wasnt in the shot, I had a good laugh and right before i cut it off, there was one last video left open and wow, the shot was still her neck and below but holy fuck, she was in a shiny black catsuit dancing, it was aim upwards for it's a clear shot of her camel toe, she was dancing to a old mix tape of 80s and 90s rap and r&b, she was humping the air, gyrating, spanking her.