‘That won’t solve anything Bridget.’ he finally said quietly. ‘Oh, I know. This is still the first glass I poured myself. I thought about gett...ng drunk, really drunk, but I decided that would lessen the guilt I feel and I don’t want that.’ ‘What guilt?’ Robert looked at me with an expression that combined sympathy and exasperation. ‘Robert, I KILLED him. Deliberately. I was so filled with rage that all I wanted to do was rip his throat out. I can’t even hide behind the fact that I was hungry. I. Anderson wrapped her legs aroundhis head, and kicked her feet against his back, and demanded more fromher little whore, until Cecilia's tongue and her kneeling body began toache from the sustained effort . Finally, after what seemed an eternitywith his face pushed into her squirming pussy, Ms. Anderson beganbucking in spasms of uncontrolled ecstasty, gripping his head tightlybetween her powerful thighs. Through the dense pressure on his ears hecould hear her yelling something as she arched. He drove expensive cars, and he had personal staff members to satisfy his every personal need. He had a good life, even if he had to deal with his cold hearted bitch of a wife to keep it. And to keep his real self buried beneath a facade of a whiny hen pecked husband which had become more difficult through their years together.And tomorrow, he would be going to the task force. He would be a member of all those people who's only job would be to find him. The irony of it was something he wished. I nodded, and she immediately parted her thighs very wide. There, in its glistening glory, was that mound of mons moss - glittering in the light of the train. It appeared she was at least somewhat wet. I licked my lips once more, then fluttered the tongue tip as a direct, unmistakable invitation. Her hands went to her cunt, with one set of fingers spreading her cunt lips open - and the fingers of the other hand simultaneously rubbing her clit and penetrating her wet portal.I felt my cock begin.