Her mind replayed one specific experience over and over, making her orgasm roll on and on. She was tied to a pummel horse, feet bound to the legs, dr...ped over the tops and her arms bound to the other side of the legs. A line formed round her, waiting for their taste of her cunt. The men watched her arousal as they stroked their cocks, waiting, watching, aching for their turn on the whore. She cried out as the wave of orgasm rolled over her once again. Another man plundered her hidden velvet. “Okay, I’ll go talk to Mommy. I’m sure we did something.” He headed back to the living room, and I followed him. I dropped my briefcase in the living room, and then went down the hall to our bedroom.As Charlie reported, Marilyn was sitting on the bed in her fluffy bathrobe, crying and looking very sad. I loosened my tie and sat down on the bed next to her. “What’s wrong?” I asked. I put an arm around her shoulder and hugged her against me. Marilyn started crying again and leaned her head on my. " We made plans for later that night. Or I should say she made plans. At this point I had already become her slave. I gave her my address, and she said that she would be over at about eight o'clock. The anticipation was running wild in me. Part of me wanted to stroke my inferior little clit stick one more time. Still I wanted there to be plenty of spunk for me to gobble in front of her. That thought made my little testicles turn blue. The pain was part of my pleasure. I really hoped that all of. I knew he was angry and frustrated but I never knew he was able to be that way. I have called a friend who knows where Busch lived and have asked him to check on his wife. I don't think he would kill her but she could be hurt. If she is, her family can help her now. If she is fine, she is to be told of his death but not the details of it. The crew could be in a lot of trouble for killing a first mate even with cause." I know, sir. And I do appreciate you sparing me." If you could have thought.