And her health? Doesn't she know it's killing her? The situation carried on for a week. We argued, we discussed, I begged, but Mandy was inseparable...from her (my?) cigarettes. What's more, I began to see her side. She seemed so much calmer this last week. So much more self assured than before. I had always done much for her, but only to a point. This week she seemed to be so confident, she took the lead in everything. I mean, she never demanded anything, no, because I would certainly. Phir maina uska ballo ma hath phiraya aur uski panty utar di. Usna bhi mera underwear uttar diya. Thand ki wajah sa hum dono blanket ma tha.mana uski belly pa kiss kia aur uski pussy pa hath phera uski pussy pa thoda baal tha woh apna hath sa mera lund sa khel rahi thi. Phir hum missionary position ma aya aur ma apna lund uski pussy pa ragdna laga woh lamba saas la rehi thi mana uski pussy hole pa lund rakha aur dabaya toh uski cheek nikal gai (ahh boht dard ho raha ha) aur woh ek hath sa mera. Now, get undressed, and then get in the shower while I go over some rules with you." Wendy was used to following the schedule of the boys while prepping in the bathroom so she found moving quickly to be nothing new. Once she was in the buff, the woman started in on the rules for the day."First, slave you are never to speak unless it is in response to a direct question. Second, if you address one of the owners, or their guests, you will address them as Master of Mistress at all times. Third, you. Along with another streamer of drool. Well, so what. She returned the bottle to its spot and replaced the cap. Now, how to get the laundry into the machine? She knelt and leaned the same way as she had before. She grasped as many clothes as she could with one hand, then realized it would take forever if she had to pick up a few items at a time, stagger to her feet and drop them into the machine. She hesitated only a moment…then plunged her face into the pile of laundry. She was.