) I was going give this other guy one hell of a good show as I fucked his wife! He'd never forget me for as long as he lived! IF his wife did conceive... and give birth (which I wanted her to do), every time he saw the c***d, with it's considerably darker, half-African skin color, he'd be reminded that I was the c***d's true, biological father! Not him. In that way, even if I never saw either of them again, I'd still be 'with' them no matter where either of us lived!Such thoughts drove my lust. But, Sunday mornings can go either way: if I enjoyed myself a lot Saturday night, then Sundays can be a bit painful. Or groggy. Or, groggy and painful. Last Sunday was neither. Due to a change in my usual schedule, my fiance and I were alone on Sunday morning for a change. This… turned out to be a very good thing. I got up around 8, brought in the paper, and found she was still ‘out’ at 9. So I brewed some coffee, surfed the web and made peanut butter chip pancakes with powdered sugar. I threw. “What do you mean?” “Look,” Ryan leaned closer towards her. “The point is that you got stabbed in the back. By the boyfriend and your best friend. And to be perfectly honest, it’s your own fault.” Marianne’s mouth dropped open. “What, my fault?” “Yes. Your fault.” Ryan took a gulp from his beer glass as Marianne settled down to listen to this stranger’s opinion on her Christmas fallout. “You let yourself get too close. Marriage is for fools and so are long-term relationships. Seriously, you. ”I nodded in acceptance. Satisfied, he stepped towards me and pushed me onto my back on the table again. As he walked around it he pointed the camera over every inch of my exposed body before spinning me around on the table until my head hung over the edge. Next I felt him grab my hair and pull it backwards, forcing my mouth open before filling it with his cock. From this angle I knew in my mind he was filming one hell of a show. My tits and pussy were on full display. One hand was alternating.