It was an enclosed porch, with another door just ahead, with a note taped on it. "Lacey, get dressed here in what you have, and put your other clothes...in your empty bag. Then put on what's in the pouch, and I'll let you in."Lacey glanced around, and saw a small pouch hanging off the doorknob. First, it was time to change. She undressed, and replaced her normal clothes with her pair of fishnet arm gloves, fishnet stockings, and black wig. After placing her boy clothes in her bag, she reached for. "I don't know how I would ever have given you the idea that I would sit still while you made a cuckold of me. If you think my years of submitting myself to your whims turned me into a spineless wimp, you have another think coming."I want to repeat what I said then. I will not tolerate any infidelity on your part. If you choose to ignore my warning, I will divorce you and I can tell you as a certainty that there will be no reconciliation. Do I make myself completely understood?"I had spoken very. He was just the opposite, gentle, caring, and lovely.After a long five minutes, I asked him to kneel. As always, he was quick and obedient. I continued, “You are not going to remove your mouth from my pussy until you drain me of cum.” He was by no means an expert. But he was adequate. He was up for the job.I walked sideways towards the bed so that I can sit. He dared not take his mouth from my pussy. It took him around 10 minutes to get the lay off the land, and then he was better. He kept. Stroke after stroke saw raw ridged lines newly created on Jenny’s bottom, mixing in with the still stinging lines drawn so eloquently earlier that day. Each stroke drew a loud gasp yelp or scream from the 42-year-old. Sometimes a leg was raised in response to the fierce stroke, or her head was thrown up as the pain filled shriek left her open mouth. Still the caning continued, ever more intense, Mrs Denver criss-crossing the weals, knowing those strokes will be even more difficult for Jenny to.