I get out hand him the agreed fare and strut down the path to the restaurant. We have a sumptuous dinner at the restaurant , no dessert , my husband h...s other ideas. As we walk across the viaduct bridge to the Wynyard Quarter my husband tells me to stop under the light as he comes behind me , raises my skirt and for two minutes drunkenly fucks me while people dining nearby watch his feeble effort. The next day is a hive of activity the cleaners come and spend three hours vacuuming , dusting,. Clearly you'vefound something that fulfills you and as far as we're concerned, wesupport you 100%".What dear friends they are. We had our brunch and chatted about theparty. Soon it was time to get to work. I put on my apron and insistedon beginning in the kitchen. Mary began to help but I shooed her away."Mary, please, this is my job! I love serving you and Mark. The two ofyou go relax. I'll do my best to stay out of your way."She agreed and they went to another part of the house. I. I looked slutty. Ilooked pretty.I don't know how long I stood there, drooling (figuratively andliterally) over my own reflection, until I heard Her laughing voice:"Enough admiring yourself. Come here, slut!" I minced towards the bed,being careful walking in those skyscraper heels, laced into the heavycorset, compressing my waist and making me draw short shallow breathstrough the mask's small nose holes, feeling the plug's bulb hit my innerthighs with every step. As I came close, She grabbed the. I gave myself a little spray of my signature scent, Tresor by Lancome. It made me feel so sexy, and I could feel my pussy ache knowing what was in store. It wasn't a question of “if” he would fuck me, it was where. Precisely at 10am, he pulled up in the driveway. I had always liked that about him, if he said he was going to be somewhere, he was there. I put on my shoes, and headed out to the car. He had gotten out of car, to open the door for me. “Morning Dylan, how are you today, hun?”,.