But not like he’s killing me like he’s touching me. His hand finds my tits and he seems like some recognition hits him and he stops grabbing and ...ooks at me. I say “Yes Master, Im your Molly.” He growls but more of a lust full growl, his hands grab at the front of my t-shirt and he pulls at it. The t-shirt starts to rip and then there is flesh he is grabbing squeezing and scratching at. Its painful but good like we used to play before. We fucked rough before. Blood lust. BDSM. Beating.. I was on the point of cumming when I suddenly thought that there was another drunken woman in the bedroom next to us. So I left Susan lying on the bed still with the dildo pushed right up her cunt, put my dressing gown on and went into the room where Anne was. I first had to check to see how ar out of it was, this I did by shaking her and lifting her arms up and dropping them. She was totally out of it.With some difficulty I managed to get her top off, and then quickly removed her bra. She had. AJ and Becky seemed to be chatting. She made a conscious decision not to feel guilty. That included the fact that she had never really mourned for Frank. She had already decided not to feel guilty about resuming intimacy with a man long before the requisite year of mourning had passed. It was relatively easy for her to ignore the problem that she wasn't married to the man she had been intimate with.That conviction was easier made than kept, however. As she walked she argued that, in one sense,. It was already after eight thirty! Stan was late. Time to move. Stan ruthlessly suppressed all thought of Anne for a while as he frantically got ready for work. In any event, he needn’t have worried. Bob had left a message with Elaine that he was going to be late too – one of his daughters had had a minor but messy accident and had needed to go to hospital. As Stan entered his office he knew he’d have to stand in for Bob, doing a lot of his work this morning. So it proved, and Stan was.