"Theres no fucking way that could fit inside anything." Lukes neck was starting to cramp from the angle he was situate at under the dog's stomach, and...his foot had grown numb from the positioning, but he found himself determined to finish what he started. The dog was beginning to twitch and whimper, shaking under his efforts, but strangely enough, not humping him, or ramming the cock down his throat. Feeling it’s climax near, Luke gave a final lick along the length of the dogs cock, the salt of. It was late, very late. What was it one, two in the morning. I'd offered him the use of our guest bedroom so he didn't have to drive home. He'd accepted. I went upstairs. She'd been mad, hurt, upset, rightfully so I imagine. As I passed out, no use to her, she must have taken the bottle of wine and stormed down stairs. Had she intended to sleep in the basement or did she just see the light on and head down there to see who left it on. I imagined her walking down and running into Jason. She in. A week or so later I was called into the office and given a formal warning. The bastard had complained about me. I decided I was going to bring both of them down a peg or two. It took about a month to plan. I acquired a small gun from one of my dodgier contacts. I followed the wimp home a couple of times. I staked out the house and noted the comings and goings. They appeared to be a couple of routine. They went up to bed at about ten each night. The bedroom light stayed on for about an hour. Both guys looked over towards me. I feigned sleep, so they just carried on with their exploring of my wife’s intimate parts. Pretty soon Trish was murmuring in her sleep. She was obviously responding to the finger fucking that the black guy was giving her. The white guy by this time was kneeling down and sucking on Trish’ tits. The black guy whispered something to the other guy and they both turned to look at me. Obviously thinking I was still asleep, the black guy took out his dick and climbed.