"Come on, fucker, give it to me."I was as shocked at the language my wife was using as I was at the action. She never used that kind of language when ...e had sex.Dave kept banging into her and could see him withdraw almost completely before plunging back into my wife's cunt. On each stroke, her pussy lips dragged along his cock, appearing as if they were trying to suck his prick back into her cunt.After a minute of fierce pounding, he pushed into her gash up to his balls and I saw his ass. She had been so embarrassed, yet she had never felt anything so good, so exciting. Dave had touched her tit, and Judy had finger-fucked her!She had perched shamelessly on the arm of the couch, watching her son fucking her daughter. And she had come! She had come off stronger than at any other time in her life.It was impossible, she told herself.She would never have done anything so shameful, not her.But she had.Her cunt tingled beneath the water, the hairy pussylips seeming to contract still.. ... GONE! Cynthia must have slipped away every stitch of my male clothing!Now I understood her scheme; she meant to force me into female attire byhiding all my own clothes and sticking me into this female body! Now Ihad no choice but to wear-whatever she brought back for me!Angrily, I waited for her to return to the back room.And waited.And waited...Where was she? I wanted to peek out into the shop and call to her, but Iwas afraid--what if someone saw me like this? I looked around the tinyroom. They killed her ... just two weeks after they killed my father." I'm sorry."She glared at me. "Don't jest, monsieur!" I mean it," I insisted with moral empathy, for I understood that she'd be upset having lost both of her parents. "I said that I'm sorry, and I am." But don't you realize who mother is? Even now?"I shook my head."Monsieur," she said. "I may be the daughter of the Marquis de Lyons, but my mother was his wife. She was Isabelle Douviere."Time stood still. "His wife?"I felt the.