One day, I came home from work at the usual time, and I had to park out in the street because the landscaping van was parked in the driveway. I didn't...think anything of it, and went inside. I figured the workers were having some iced tea or maybe using the bathroom. When I went inside, however, I heard a noise upstairs. It was the unmistakable, rhythmic slapping of flesh-on-flesh, and I could hear my wife moaning her usual chant of "Yes! Yes! Yes!" She was getting fucked, and fucked good. I. He brushed her tits with his rough, oily fingers and then gave her a single dollar. Melanie thanked him profusely like the dollar was the answer to world hunger and the cure for cancer all in one.“This sucks. How do you make any money?” Brock observed. He had never been in the club for long before. He had no idea it was this slow and tedious.“I don’t usually make money, Master. I have a few regulars who buy dances, but they don’t come in until a little after 5 pm when they get off work,”. "I'm the best damn investigator they have," he said to himself. "I must be out of my mind to put up with this shit."Feeling nothing but disgust Tom tossed the unread file onto his desk; he did not need to read what was in the report, it was all over the news, there was a home invader loose on the streets. The invader's MO was simple enough, he would enter into a home to steal money and force women to undress in front of him. "How is this guy getting past security?" Tom said to himself. Tom knew. Jim walks out of the bathroom, down the hall, opens the door, and there she was. Her ankles tied to the bed posts. Calves and thick thighs struggling to break free, her freshly shaven pussy swollen and glistening. Clearly, she is turned on by this. Her stomach shakes with every movement. Her soft mounds of flesh, nipples erect in the middle of scrunched up light pink areolas, roll to the left and right as she struggles. Her sandy blond hair halfway in her face, covering the ball gag in her.