I loved hurting her with my cock so much I didn't even give a shit that it kind of hurt me too. It was so awesome. "That's good. That means your not a...slut. I don't want a slut for a wife. It should hurt when you get fucked. You're a good girl Rachel."But then it suddenly became easier. "Thank you Terry!" she screamed and cried. "I wanna be a good girl! I wanna be a good girl!"And then I realized she was wet."You fucking whore," and I slapped her in the face. The hardest I ever slapped her was. He was in black boots and leather trousers, his chest bare except for a sleeveless black leather waist coat sporting the Hells Angels insignia. There was a black whip in the pannier, on the back of the bike. No ordinary biker. Sometimes known as “Snake whip,” he was The Master. He got off his bike and walked into the factory with the proud arrogance of a prize bull, Suddenly there is a noise from within the factory, someone's shadow moving around in the dark, the biker calls to him, the guy. The following month we were heading up north full of excitement and nerves of what was going to happen.The hotel was very nice but it was more of a large guest house than a hotel. The place was kept very clean and tidy and the rooms were nice too. The main bar was for guests only and there was a large hall with another bar which was used for functions. We checked in around four o'clock in the afternoon and the manageress showed us to our room. Once in the room the manageress Susan explained how. We took a bath together and cleaned ourselves. Before taking bath, I sat on the commode and Manasa on top my dick facing me. I kissed her lips and sucked her huge melons. She was moving up and down and I was sucking her boobs. We cleaned ourselves and decided to go out for lunch.Manasa asked me to suggest what to wear and showed me her clothes. There was a pink half sleeves top which was a bit thin and looked new. The top was tight as Manasa used to wear it before they had a child. Now her.