I can’t stop looking – as a compulsive masturbator, any view like that just mesmerises me and my eyes stay locked on. Whether She’s noticed me o... not is not something I can address now, as funny feelings in my tip grow stronger. She undoes a button on Her cardigan and adjusts Her breasts, making my face burn intensely red and my willy leak. She’s squeezing them together a little like I see the girls do in my magazines and a long continuous stream of pre-cum runs into my underpants. There’s a. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she asked, her voice a combination of anger and fear. “You can scream if you like,” Mark replied. “I kind of like it. And we don’t have any neighbors within earshot.” Suddenly he slapped her, causing her to cry out. Then his big, gnarled hands grasped the neck of her tee shirt and in one powerful motion ripped it in two. The bikini top underneath was a flimsy little garment, and broke apart easily under his lust-fueled strength. He stared with. She heard the trap returning, she had Mike, load the trunk, the shotgun and the diaries, then before they locked up she sat in the rocker, and had Mike sit opposite her, and in this melancholy little place, saying “that they spent little time talking and she liked to know how her staff were getting along” she first if he was happy, to which he said “he was” so she asked, “how things were with Mary.” His broad smile said the first flush of marital sex had not as yet warn off. But He thanked her. It took a second before Mike noticed it and then he got mad, "Aw shit! You pissed all over me! What the fuck!" He yelled as he pushed me off of him. I was so embarrassed. I didn't think it was pee but what else could it be? I felt humiliated and I started crying. Mike was cussing up a storm in our bathroom as he started the shower. I was still crying as I tried to wipe up the wet spot with a towel but it was no use; the wet spot was just too big and too wet.Mike came back into the bedroom with.