He was so impatient he just ripped them off (that wasanother pair gone), took a grip on my hips and simply thrust himself deepinto me making me sprawl...across the table and sending the salad flying.I gripped the sides of the table as he pounded into me from behind,deeper, and deeper and deeper. By now I was shrieking loud enough to wakeup the neighbourhood with cries and moans of "Fuck me, harder, deeperdarling that's wonderful, make me your bitch!!" You are my bitch...my wonderful beautiful. And, as I have told you, Iwas getting so excited about going to the party in my fancy costume.Robby had decided to go as an Egyptian princess. He improvised apleated loin-cloth from some old sheets, wore a glittery crop-top anddraped a multicoloured chiffon sarong around his waist and shoulders.He made a head-piece out of cardboard and painted it gold. The effectwas fabulous and complemented my own costume perfectly. We were sureto be a hit!By the Saturday morning I was fretting with. Tim sits frozen. He’s consumed in impossible thoughts. What an unbelievable set of possibilities. Tim checks his cards. He has K-6 and only a small chance of winning if a K fell on the River and nobody had an Ace or two pair or ended with a three of a kind or a flush. Tim’s mind swam in all the possible ways he could lose. But the even the smallest remote possibility that he could win Amy for the rest of the evening. That was worth the risk, even if he had to lose Lisa for an hour.All. A cousin perhaps. It was classic arrogance that was being masked with some semblance of 'sensitivity' on his part. Hell, for all I know, he might even believe it, but the body language was classic possession demonstration and the need to imprint that on the events that followed. I was being told without words that he was the Alpha male here, in terms of owning her.She was leaning forward, and he was leaning back, both arms spread out along the sides of the couch, one behind her. You could see.