Brockton, the town where he spent half his life. Living the life of an undocumented immigrant because his parents left him with his aunt during summer...vacation, when he was about to start high school. Living in that house with her for almost ten years was a nightmare. How he emerged out of that with his sanity intact was a miracle in itself. He thought he’d be free once he moved to Canada. The only country where an undocumented immigrant like him would be offered safe haven. In the United. As soon as he finished cumming and pulled out I closed my legs and told I had to get home and thanked him. I ran out to my car and put my panties on and drove the three blocks home. When I came into the house my husband sensed something was up as I ran up the stairs to our bedroom. I undressed as I ran. I jumped on the bed and laid there as my husband entered the room holding my cum stained panties. He put the panties to his mauth and tasted the cum and then he took off his clothes and jumped. The pretty whore girl was getting collared by the artist. But it still felt like only the two of us were in our moment. That is, until I felt my dress being pushed up.I tried to look over my shoulder but Neil didn’t loosen his grip on my hair. Our eyes met. He held my gaze almost challengingly as someone else’s hand went between my legs and groped extravagantly. I moaned around Neil’s cock and ground back. It felt too good. Far too good. My panties were dragged down and then it was skin on. "In the meantime, while we are waiting, please tell me about the group you ran away from."Oh, good, the toast is ready. Be careful not to burn yourself. I think you should eat it dry."The girl said, "Thank you for the food. Please tell me how I should address you. I don't know your rank, and I am used to talking only to women who are slaves like me." Just call me 'Sue.' We don't have slaves around here. Everybody is equal, and everybody works at whatever jobs need doing. My husband is one of.