She looked down at her palm to try to ensure that she didn’t try to look at the young officer's eyes again. She certainly didn’t want another slap...around the face, although would readily have swapped that for an equal number of cane strokes on her palm. However, that wasn’t on offer and as the seventh stroke landed she yelped with the pain but forced herself to keep looking at her palm as the red line appeared, reminding herself yet again that she was the one at fault, not the police. ‘Sure’ I said, as I sat down for a rest of my own. Minutes later, and to my surprise, Pete’s wife Sarah walked into the stable asking for Andy. She looked at me with a startle, expecting to see Andy. ‘Who are you’ she asked with a voice combining authority and a sense of intrigue. ‘Becky’ I replied, almost shaking with fear that I’d been caught having a break. Sarah looked me up and down, in my tight jeans and now dirty white T-shirt, and clearly liking what she saw. ‘You’re filthy, girl’ she. As I have understood him well I did not bother to listen or care.We live in the same house ,but I don’t let him inside the bed room. I don’t cook for him.For him my house is a place Just to stay.He became very defensive and timid totally defeated,a dead snake.I was on fire.Financially I was stable but sexual needs were there for me.Already my desires were not taken care satifactorily by my husband.After few days when I was alone I watched a blue cd for a change and distraction.I became. With only my peach silk drawers remaining, I sit at her feet. Taking up each leg in turn, I caress my way along the silk-clad calf from knee to slim ankle. Flipping off a shoe, massaging an elegant foot, I nibble the tender curve of her instep, hearing her purr. Crawling up between her legs, kissing and biting each as I go, I hover my face above her lace-covered cunny. I breathe in deeply, her sweet, rich musk firing my appetite.She raises her hips with a mew, as I hook her panties with two.