Mom says I have a mature figure for my age, but I don’t think so. I think she only says that because I have a slim waist that sets off my hips, but ...hey’re not all that curvy. My boobs are still only a B cup. There’s barely enough padding to puff up in a halter, but they’re nicely shaped, with deep red rings around deep red nipples. I’m five-three and weigh like one-oh-five. So I’m slender, but I’m not skinny. You can’t see my ribs unless I’m breathing hard. I have brown eyes and soft brown. To his left was a long bar of gleaming mahogany with smoked mirrors and slender, chair-like bar stools, to his right a bandstand and dance floor, before him a sea of tables, neatly arranged in anticipation of their eventual occupants. Then he saw her seated at a table against the far wall, a drink in her hand, staring into space. He wended his way between the tables to where she was. ‘Cynthia?’ he said hesitantly. ‘Byron?’ she replied, ceasing her reverie. ‘Whatever are you doing here?’ There. " The voicesounded so arrogant and commanding, it terrified me even as the old manthrust into me."Ay ok, well I'll call agin if we find im." Mister Hughes panted, clearingthe call even before there was any further response. He placed the phoneback on the table beside me before gripping my hips and fucking me in agradually increasing intensity, driving me over the top, a quivering cleardribble of my forced climax running down my legs.He finally came in a satisfied groan, his cock thrust deeply. I scrambled to my feet and grabbed up everything and obediently followed my white wife and five black boys back to our room. At this point I didn't know what to expect. Somehow I had lost control of the situation and Sherry was completely in charge. I felt the urge to regain control and then be the one to push the limits. I told the boys to take the ice chest and stuff that I was carrying. I slipped the key in the door and ushered everyone inside. The tv was still on and some small white girl.
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