I was too weak to think about it, too innocent perhaps to understand the way a mind as old as Angela's would work. The only thing I knew then was that...she was my enemy. The murderer of my mother and father, the agent that God had sent to punish me. He was in her, I was certain of that. God lived inside Angela, evil and corrupt and He'd killed me too, turned me into this thing I was.So I just sat there, against the refrigerator with my eyes closed and tasting the dead man's blood on my tongue. I. ’ This suited me fine. We did have a swell evening sitting around the living room and I gave a highly sanitized account of the events of the last month (no mention of Tiny’s or Tammy’s part in the events). Tiny showing great mercy and restraint, gently escorted out our last guest out at 7:15, bid us a good night and made his 3 hour return drive back to Lovett. Only Myra was left and from the stack of papers in front of her on the dining room table, it looked like it was going to be all. She hated riding him, because then she had to exert herself, she had to move her body of her own volition like a whore earning her pay. Every calorie she burned while pleasuring him was like spitting on the graves of her children. And she hated missionary, not just because it was how she always made love to her husband, but because she became trapped under Dominion. She couldn’t escape, she couldn’t look away, she had to bear his enveloping weight as his sweat mixed with hers.Watching them,. Despite the low light, I could clearly see the liquid heat seeping out between Meredith’s engorged pussy lips and running down her legs. Erica had a look of lust on her face, and each strike caused her pert little titties to shake and wobble. About every five strokes or so, Erica would stop and rub Meredith’s reddened bottom, pushing one or two fingers into the girl’s sex while caressing her own. Eventually the spanking stopped all-together, so that Erica could concentrate on finger-fucking her.