John William Farris. Hart was my mother’s maiden name. Of course, that doesn’t mean much to you. But maybe you do remember Clyde Farris, my father... I’m quite sure you also remember Kaitlyn Farris - my mother - and Emilie Crowell, my fiancée. They probably looked more like sisters, or mother and daughter, than anything else. In the beginning, we had hoped that the feds might find them in time, but by the time the next women disappeared, I knew that my mother and my fiancée were dead. The feds. Once lit, she took a long drag and, exhaling a thin stream, placed her cigarette in the ashtray next to the mirror. After another sip of whisky, Ramya started on her face.Several minutes later, she heard the shower stop running. Shortly, Maaran, her young lover appeared nude, drying himself with a turkey towel. Ramya’s eyes were drawn to the long, thick hose hanging between his muscular thighs and her pussy tingled as she thought back to their most recent, and particularly raucous, bedroom. “Is this better than the one you pretended to be asleep when we started this?”“Actually, it has been much better since the day we stopped pretending,” my son replied.From their conversation it was obvious it had been happening for months; the lewd act. They had done it in my house and I could tell was my sister who started it-just a hunch. In the video, my son didn't miss a beat. Neither did she. His head rolled back as she started to lick his cock, starting with the tip and then shaft and. My face must have been a horrible mess too, mascara running and hair tangled. She turned and ran back up the stairs. I was destroyed. I would have to see her the next day when I walked past the Help Desk on my way to my cubicle. I collapsed against the wall, dropped my dress."Show them to me," Peter barked. In a daze, I raised the dress again, not caring now what happened. He pounced on me, fingers twisting and yanking my nipples, trying to pull them off of my body. I felt my cunt swelling,.