She stepped up to my workbench and started stacking papers and books into neat piles. I noticed her movements seemed mechanical and stiff. I glanced...up, her face was blank, showing none of her usual animation. I grabbed her wrist, she kept on straining one handed.“Jill, stop.” I said trying to keep the fear out of my voice. She dropped her hands to her sides, standing there without moving.“Jill, are you alright?” I asked.“Yes.” she said, in a dull, flat monotone.I told her to sit down. She. .. what do you mean .. who else knows?" Sheila gasped realizing she'd just admitted that he was right, only to find herself bent over his left arm as he smacked the backs of her thighs sharply three time each."Thou protests too much," he growled pushing her skirt up into the middle of her back and firmly yanking her panties up into the crease of her ass cheeks. "Shh! You're gettin your butt whooped good and hard. No more talk! You can cry all you like but no more words."Sheila nodded wide eyed. 'Come here', he growled and I turned to feel him grab my hair and force my head around, all the time keeping my eyes tightly closed, the smell of his cock with my secretions all over it brushed under my nose, I knew the drill and opened my mouth to feel his swelling fleshy pole ram deep into my tonsils, there was no mistaking the odor and stench of old semen as it thickly entered my throat and coated my tongue.His gasping alerted my sensitive hearing, this was one helluva fuck for him, cumming. Eines Abends, kam Peter zum Hausbesuch, läutete an der Gartentüre und wartete. Normalerweise macht immer der Ehemann auf, doch an diesem Abend, war der Ehemann nicht zuhause und Wolfgang kam aus dem Haus und lief nur im Unterhemd und Unterhose zur Gartentür. „ Sorry, aber ich war gerade unter der Dusche und mein Dad ist noch beim Einkaufen. Daher mache ich Dir in dem Aufzug die Tür auf.“Peters Blick wanderte schon, als Wolfgang an die Gartentür kam, in Richtung Slip und dem was dahinter sich.