Even after last night, he didn’t think he could. There was something strange about the whole situation. His wife, Kate, was a strong woman, with amb...tion and grace. She was a software developer for a major company, having some high security clients, with top-secret assignments. Despite all that, she was the most down to earth woman he knew. Level headed and was even pretty domestic. She would often work late, but would come home to the most energetic, imaginative sex he could dream of. ‘You. French kiss that mouth, youlittle slut. Tongue fuck it like you mean it and maybe I'll letyou cum." I was repelled by the thought, but knew it was my only wayto get gratification, and that resistance would mean realtrouble. I made myself lean forward and hesitantly lap at her. "No!" she yelled, grabbing me by my wig and slamming my faceinto her, humping my nose with her hips. "Do it, you fag slut,or we'll go out and pick somebody up to fuck YOU!" I did it with every bit of energy. We had came to another stop, however there was no conversation. Still afraid, I trusted Claus when he lifted my head from his crotch. The moment was surreal. I rubbed my sore eyes and then rubbed them again. I must have been hallucinating. Everything was very familiar. The butcher shop, the bakery, the shoemaker store, ice cream parlour, Danski's Tailors, Jaffi's book store ... I was home again! This was the street I grew up on and I knew every inch even if I was blind folded.I swivelled my. He poured the cum overflow from the glass into my asshole and replaced the plug. I swung around, stood from the bed dropped my skirt, pulled-up my tube top and headed for the door. ‘Hate to fuck and run lover, next time.’ He barely had a chance to get in a ‘Bye Bitch’ out before I was in my car and headed home to feed my slut. How did I get here? A 39-year-old dominant lesbian/hetero housewife riding down the highway with an eight-inch butt plug in her ass and a six incher up her cunt, full of.