And I protested saying, that’s not true. I dress that way when I paint for comfort. He scoffed at me, saying I was just making excuses. And that whe...her I like it or not, I had turned into a frumpy ‘aunty’ after marriage. That was the start of his manipulation.” “Hmmm.” I said. She went on, “So obviously, the next day, just to prove him wrong, I wore a tank-top and a knee-length skirt. When he came and sat in his chair, I expected him to comment on the change in my attire. But he did no such. . It kicks .. shakes my rod .. oh the cow .. I have the balls back to me in the stomach .. I shake my legs .. and glare .. I squirt like crazy .. between his fingers .. he insisted after the last drop .. damn it hurts .. but I love it!It's my turn .. its tail is long thick .. but his penis seems smaller than mine .. I squeeze his cock .. it is less steep than mine .. But sweet .. It reacts to my touch .. I'm going much slower than him .. him as he ground balls .. His tail does not harden up ... I got so turned on by his vivid tale that I suggested that we go into our living room where I took off my clothes and laid on the ottoman he was using in this fantasy he was creating for me. I rested my head in his lap and, with his imaginative story, I fingered myself to a very pleasurable orgasm. To make the fantasy seem more real, Stan fucked me afterward as he bent me over the back of the couch. He did it very aggressively and told me to imagine it was an unknown cock being forced into me. “Stop yelling. The neighbors are going to call the cops.” I said, as she continued to kick. “NO!” she screamed. “PUT ME DOWN!” “Okay, if you say so – “ “NO! INSIDE!” she interjected. “You have to apologize, first.” I told her. “Fuck no. I didn’t do anything!” she snapped. “Alriiiight..” I put her on the ground, and blocked the door. “No, no, wait,” Miracle said. “I’m sorry.” “For” “Saying you were annoying,” she said quickly. “That wasn’t very believable...” I said slowly, beginning to open.