Before it slips away.” She shook her head hard, enough for her hair to bounce around in a motion far too jagged to be natural. “It was there, and ...ow it’s gone. Angela, I mean. She ... she killed me, and now it’s gone, the chain around my feet. And that’s ok. It’s all ok. Please, don’t ... don’t make things harder than they have to be. I don’t want to go, but I know I should.”“But ... baby, that ... that doesn’t mean you have to go.”“It does, Mom. It does! It ... does!” Mary screamed the last. I will take the recliner." Lynn couldn't believe it. Her husband was setting this up. She didn't have to do anything. He even stood next to them while Chuck looked down her blouse and stroked her breasts. She was almost certain he wanted her to fuck their guest. She decided to give her husband a good show. Mike pulled the curtains closed and put some light classical music on. The room was dim from the evening sunlight. He even lit a couple of candles before sitting in the recliner. Lynn walked. Both wore nothing but shifts and stays and both were barefoot. The woman's frail garment had been ripped down to her waist and hung over her corset. Her high breasts stood up proudly, their dark tips hard and prominent. The girl stood with her head down, her slim body trembling."This," said the officer with a sneer, "Is Mrs. Horace Smithson, wife of a very dead colonial who was foolish enough to try to stop a Hessian advance on Long Island. He had more bayonet wounds, I am told, than could be. I feel her finger nails digging into my back, gouging furrows out. I slam into her, taking her, vanquishing her, forcing her surrender again. Her body arching, hands digging deep, her feet dancing on my thrusting buttocks. She is mewing and shaking her head, back and forth. Her mouth opening and closing in a silent scream as her tortured lungs gulp air greedily. " You are mine, Celeste. All mine." There is no pain, much to her surprise. It feels wonderful, her pussy is still full of cum from.