I didn't want to. But I had to. I slowly turned my head towards him, noticing first his tanned muscular arm, then looked directly into his face. There...behind me, was my best friends husband, staring into my eyes. I froze with shock, he didn't move, his hand still on my ass, positioning it ready for a fucking. "Don't move Jenny, the rules are still the same. You give yourself completely to me, or I leave you here. Do you understand me? He said, his voice shaking slightly. I gazed into his eyes,. The movement in her cheeks told me she was lapping her inner walls. Minutes passed until Becky stepped way and said, “She's ready!”.Becky left the room, and I stared in her eyes, which she seemed to be questioning me with, whats next?Old Ed his self, walked in. Taking a quick look, he walked over to the chair, laid it back and readjusted it. He threw a leg of hers over each arm, unzipped and fast stroked her. In about two minutes, he was done. His old cock slid out leaving a thick trail of cum. There was a tavern in the village which mostly served the guests and merchants that came with the boats. During the Spring, there was a period when there really wasn’t that much boat traffic, because the traders were afraid of the ice floe fragments that came from the rivers and took their time to melt whilst in the ocean. The local fishermen just shook their heads at that and went fishing anyway.I tasted the flatfish when I spent one night in the tavern. I listened to the locals who complained. Renee had introduced her to group and sadomasochistic sex. The anthropologist's wife had become a sex slave to more than a dozen men and women. To this day she was on beck and call to the group, often spending entire weekends providing perverted sexual pleasures to the group and their friends. This had made for some creative explanations at times, but the anthropologist remained totally ignorant of his wife's activities. Renee had disclosed that only this past weekend, Christine had spent a.