Tracy is two years older than me, an all American girl, tall, slim, long brown hair with long legs and a Miss America build. I had always known that T...acy was not like me. Tracy is smart and beautiful but weak.I was laid in bed and thinking what Tracy would look like naked in bed with me, a wonderful fantasy. It came to me with a rush her life would be horrible, she'd marry a loser that beat her and either end up driven insane by her husbands abuse or murdered by him. I could even see a. Donna was awake now and becoming aware that it couldn't be her husband. He was at work. But the thick dick was already doing its job. It was jamming her cunt, screwing it with strong full strokes. She now knew for certain that it wasn't her husband. This prick was long and hard and meaty, filling her pussy up, frigging her fast and fully. It was much bigger than her husband's and it was screwing her more lustily than her husband had ever screwed her.It was dark in the room, too dark to see whom. That's him." What made you ask about him?" Something about him. I can't exactly express it. The first time I met him, he nearly crushed my hand in a so-called friendly handshake. Then he insulted me a couple of times, trying to laugh it off as a joke. He also had a couple of what I would call inappropriate comments about Diane as well."Etchevarry was paying very close attention."Christie caught him trying to drug her and get her involved in a swingers club on New Years. That was the basis for. I tossed the shirt aside and we stood in front of each other naked now except for the lone pair of panties she wore.“This could happen right now you know.” she warned.She was still shaking when I reached out and hooked my finger in the waistband of her panties.I pulled her just a little closer and she looked up at me, her eyes afraid.“Remember what these are.” I said and she looked down at me holding her panties out away from her.“Remember where they've been.” I said, taking up her right hand.