I mean you pretend you are fleeing me, but really you always come back, and you manage to convert another pure soul like yourself. You are mine, my li...tle Angel. I own you. You were chosen to be my consort." But who are you!?" Angela cried. "How can you control me, it doesn't make sense." She sobbed harder and Catalina stroked her hair. Leo smiled."You truly are deluded. Angela, I marked you, you bare my mark. I own you, and until the day I decide to take you home with me you have a semblance. She was still wearing her business outfit, a black skirt and jacket, a white blouse, black stockings - which in truth was a pantyhose like I realized later - and her small feet plugged in black polished Heels.She looked tired when she turned her head to me to ask me a question I cannot remember now. She had been working all day, there was some trouble at the office and after all she had to drive 30 kilometres from her home to my town where the concert took place. But she didn´t seem to be. She parted her lips and we shared my salty seed and all the while we were giggling like school kids. "My husband would die if I kissed him with a mouth full of cum." "As I see it, we share our fluids and our minds. I've tasted my own cum many times after easting my wife's full pussy. What difference does it make which entrance it came from? I show you this to impart to you to do things in bed that are in your head...without shame or discomfort. Your marriage bed is best therapist." I lay on. She was wearing a beach skirt over her bikini and her bikini top. Only a slight belly and some thickness at thigh and upper arm marred her figure, which was generally very nice. She blushed over her entire body from the compliment, and giggled again."Come on inside," she said. Mark swung his leg over the bikes spine and walked behind the two girls into the darkened house. "Fucking Tom's passed out in my bedroom," she said, "I closed the door so he could sleep. Prick."They went straight through.