"So, about that color. I like red, but your breasts are white where you've had your top."Without warning, I began to slap her breasts. Rhythmically. N...t so hard. From above. From the side. From the other side. From below. I started to slap a little harder and slower. Then I stopped. I looked at her. My cock was pounding steel rod stiff and stood straight up in the air. Her lips were separated and she was breathing rapidly."You have to count now, Slut," I said, just after I slammed my flat hand. " That will be perfect for us both I'll see you then."Making my way back to work I finished my shift and went home. Meanwhile Katherine was at her apartment in massage room preparing it before I arrive, next to the massage bed there was her bed where she slept, she pulls a lever and the bed slid over revealing an entrance to a stairway to a hidden room. Removing all of her clothes she walks downstairs into the hidden dark room where their was fuck machine and bodies of previous clients all. I straightened the Shudan, whichI instantly knew was the name of the painter, and then moved naturally to mycloset."It was huge! What had been a small single-door closet had turned into adouble-door walk-in that went back at least ten feet. Plus, it was filledwith all manners of female attire; skirts, dresses, blouses and shoes. I wentthrough my clothes and picked out a rubber mini-dress and a leather mini-skirt. After only a moment of consideration I chose the mini-skirt andquickly pulled it. What happened to my rich preppy suburban housewife. Obviously, this biker Butch had transformed my wife into a biker’s girl. Debbie was gone a lot in the evening and I suspected Debbie knew that I was sure she was fucking around on me with god knows how many guys. But that all ended one day, apparently her young biker Butch had used her up and moved onto a younger women. My wife was devastated. One night I heard her over the phone begging Butch to let her come over. She said “I’ll even do a.