”“Fuck you how?”“Fuck me hard. Fuck me crazy. Fuck me ’til I die.”“You got it, babe.”He thrust into her. Hard and forceful now. Her ti...y sigh became a squeal each time his cock rammed her, nudging her toward the head of the bed, nudging the bed into the wall while the cracks in the plaster deepened. Her wrists strained against the straps and her fingers curled around them; restraints became braces under his barrage.He loved the way her face looked when he fucked her. Mouth open, lips and. “Then, shave,” she grinned.“Shave?”“Shave,” she nodded. “Shave your arms, your legs, your chest, your armpits…in short get rid of any hair that a woman wouldn’t have.”“What? Why?”“Because if you’re going to dress like a slut, you should do it right.”“But, but…” I stammered.“But nothing!” she cut me off. “You’re either going to do what I say or you’re getting out of my house! I will file for divorce, and I will post all of these pictures on Facebook and tell the entire world why I’m. And, to be honest, ‘mobbed’ is really a very polite word for what they're doing; as is fondling, groping, fingering, frigging, tweaking and exposing. Literally yesterday, I decided to visit the local supermarket just for a few essentials (Yakult, Ryvita and Celery if you want to know) yet no sooner was I through the doors, that some acne-coated teenage girl was on her knees between my thighs and giving my poor cuntage such a violent tongue-fucking that all I could do was wobble precariously. But then again, I argued with myself in silence, street girls just don’t look that nice.I pulled into the parking lot of the convenience store and stepped into the store. I figured I might as well buy me a six-pack of beer, as long as I was in the area.I grabbed a six-pack from the cooler and as I stood at the register, waiting to pay, I became acutely aware that I was not alone. I glanced over my shoulder and saw my lovely, who was even more attractive up close than I could have even possibly.