I need your keys and phone. That’s how he’s been tracking you. You will take your things and my car to my office. I will ditch your car and cell ...hone and meet you there, at my office.““No, I am not going to do that without any way to contact you if something goes wrong,” she sobbed.“Nikki, relax. Let me finish. I have a new phone that I just activated. It’s a burner phone. My number is the only one programmed in it. You will be safe in my office till I get to you. I will let you know. No doubt, he’d heard that her rapists had blamed me for what happened and had probably heard various descriptions of our initial confrontation. He assumed that I would not do anything to risk Marion’s job. On that he was probably correct, but unfortunately for him it wasn’t me that he hit.We gave all this information to the same young police constable that had accompanied me to the hospital following my own assault, that eventually turned up, along with details of the man himself and his car.. It was very smooth and felt firm in my hand. I began getting hard myself and felt saliva building up in my mouth. He instructed me to stroke it and I followed orders. He then began undressing me while I was fixated on his cock. He then asked if I wanted to do more. I nodded and let him guide me.He slowly placed his cock in my mouth while still standing over me. He then started thrusting slowly forward while holding my head in place. I gagged but he kept going and I didn't mind at all. His cock. A big, fat dick. Not only that, but her once flawless olive skin glistened with another man’s cum. Anger overcame me. I felt confused. Betrayed. But most of all I felt inadequate. Why had she done this? She had never shown signs before. She was a prude. A fucking prude of all prudes. Missionary was adventurous for her and only entertained doggy on my birthday. Even in years gone by, when I divulged my debauched fantasies, she never seemed in the slightest bit interested. In fact, she told me to.