The letter was from the new Prime Minister and it read: “ Dear Slut, Welcome to the Government Slut Factory, all of the staff and facilities are fun...ed for by your old assets (property; bank balances; cars) that we have ceased possession of and sold – so thank you for your kind donation. We believe that women have lost their way, we do not blame you as you were conned into believing that you had independence but after the country had been through two world wars we needed to rebuild and led you. " She thought it was George calling her, boy was she ever wrong.When she hit the button, instead of her husband's loving face, she saw the belligerent balding head of Seymour Spacely, of Spacely Sprockets, Inc., her husband's boss. The little man looked ready to bite through his cigar. Something must have gone wrong at the plant, and Mr. Spacely was not happy about it."Is Mrs. Jetson there?" he asked, his voice at a barely restrained level."He must think I'm one of the kids' friends," Jane. After going together for several years, he decided to join the Air Force and left Connie behind. I picked her up on the rebound, married her and we had two kids. Life was great for twenty-three years and then it wasn’t.Our son Robert had a job with the post office in Baltimore and our daughter Dawn married and moved to Allentown. I had anticipated that life would get better as empty nesters, but I was wrong.I work for my Uncle Simon driving a gravel truck. It is hard work but pays well. We. Then, reaching into my shorts she tugged my hard penis into view, slowly stroking it as we kissed. I sat back onto the bed, Marty never letting go of my shaft. As she stroked my cock, I quickly kicked the pants from my legs and scooted up on the bed, inviting her to join me. I turned Marty so her head was near my hips, her groin at my face. Guiding her, I finally got her leg to cross over my head so that her pussy was now staring me in the face. I know she'd washed just a moment ago, so I knew.