' It's not really a question. He says that he has visited his family in Africa. 'I am from Sierra Leone.' As we walk together, we continue to talk ani...atedly. He tells about his native country and I about my trip through Mali. Interested, he asks if i liked it Africa. In scents and colors I tell about the West African country. How wonderful the atmosphere, the climate and the friendly people. The poverty I have seen. But also about the hospitality that you feel everywhere. I tell him about the. He was getting frustrated byit and started calling me names and slapping my ass hard...pulling my hair. Telling me what worthless slut I was. Then he started getting into it andfucking me harder and harder. He was now calling me Jen. 'Jen I love fucking you like the slut you are. Such a cock slut. Fucking that nasty ass of yours. Didyou know that Jen wears this ripped pantyhose for me at work so we sneak out to the toilets and I fuck her pussy or ass quick' I couldn't believe all that Iwas. Finger fuck my pussy you bastard." So I did! I gave the hardest finger fuck I could, lifting her tiny slim frame off the floor with each thrust! "Now put your cock in me," she panted desperately. I steadied myself and slapped my hard dick on her ass a few times before positioning myself on her swollen lips and resting there for a few seconds. "Stick it in me NOW!" Steph shouted. This girl was on heat! I gave one almighty thrust, driving myself into her, lifting her off the floor. She screamed. "In a manner of speaking, I guess that's true," she admitted.Gertrude looked vindicated. "Who was the designer?" she asked. This time, her tone made it clear that she would brook no coyness. She expected an answer.Monique felt like telling Madame to go fuck herself, but Richard had wanted her to enjoy the finer things in life, even after his death, and he'd worked hard so that she could enjoy the not-so-polite world of polite society as a proper lady. She wasn't about to ruin her career as a.