He just stopped pushing for a second and then he pushed another two inches in…My wife was bucking and fucking towards him trying to get more cock in...ide. She was moaning and groaning and begging for it.All of a sudden Richie pulled out and then slammed back into her, about five inches, six inches, seven inches.The first strokes were slow; but went faster and her pussy creamed around this hard ebony intruder. I saw the black stud was down on my wife, whispering things in her ear as he did his. "There was a scoff of indignity from Zoë and muffled grunt of protest from her husband.He looked at her passport as he spoke." I have already asked you miss... Zoë, are you a bitch? If you are you'll come many times from my handy work like a bitch on heat before your plane leaves."Zoë shook her head, " No, no, no! No way you fucking filthy pig. I've changed my mind. I want to see who's in charge." She couldn't believe what he was saying so casually."Miss Zoë, " the interrogator said, laughing. The next day brought more progress. The following evening, the lights turned low, moonlight coming in through the hospital window; Holly’s head was resting on the rail of Sam’s bed when she felt his hand touch her.Sam’s touch was gentle. His fingers barely scratched at her scalp, moving her hair around. “Sam?” Holly woke up, grabbing his hand. “I’m here, I’ve always been here.”Sam whispered something, but Holly couldn’t hear it. “Are you trying to speak? Take it easy, sweetie, I’m right. I couldn’t be sick with a gag in my mouth; I just couldn’t. I wasn’t going to be able to stop myself though.Morgan reached over and removed the gag. The smell of burnt powder on his hand was too much; I spattered the meager contents of my stomach down my front and onto the back of the driver’s seat. Of course, given that the left side of Stone’s head was missing, a little vomit was unlikely to be a major consideration for the cleanliness of the van.I was glad the suppressor on Morgan’s pistol.