She looks nearly half asleep, reeking strongly of drink. She is wearing a pair of blue cotton track pants, a light sweatshirt and sneakers. It’s h...rdly the most common garb to go clubbing in, which makes you curious as to her story. She is not what you might consider classically pretty, but then she’s hardly at her best right now. Her light brown hair is tied back in a long loose ponytail. As a single guy, you find the most attractive aspect of this stranger to be her tight, very athletic. I looked at her face and said you messed with the wrong fuckin guy tonight you dumb whore! The look of terror in her eyes was priceless as I spit in her face and pounded her cunt while I got harder and harder as I degraded her telling her she was a useless dumb pregnant whore. She wanted to cry but instead twisted around and slapped my face and I said try that again and she did. I fucked her even harder and squeezed my hands around her throat as I jackhammered her pregnant cunt. I slowed down. A voice over a loud speaker gave us our next instruction. "Report to the building next door. For further processing."None of us thought much of it.Upon entering the building each of us was given a bag. In which we placed all of our clothes other than our briefs and boxers, upon the bag we wrote our assigned number.After ten minutes of over a hundred men standing there in our shorts. A voice came over the loud speaker. "Will #1 please go through the lighted door on the stage," it said.Ten. My Mom, not my wife.Yet I took a close interest, feeling a twang of jealousy and uncomfortable curiosity.Next day Hassan's friends all greeted Ann and joked more with her. Not all of them spoke fluent English but those that did acted as translators. They would laugh ripely among themselves about something, then translate to us what they wanted us to hear I think. Hassan joked, " Yourr motherr is a very nice woman. We say her hair is colour of fire. Hot!"I wasn't quite sure of his meaning. She.