Better than the microwave dinner I would have had at home. And Homer can be kind of charming sometimes. We had a good time. Since it was still early w...en we got back to my house, I asked Homer to come in for a glass of wine. My designer jeans were too tight and my feet were killing me in those heels, so I went back to the bedroom to change. I just picked up a yellow blouse and a pair of jeans that I like to wear around the house. My ex-husband used to call them my pussy jeans, but they're not. One night, over a year later, he was watching videos and found out about chat lines. On his lunch break the next day, he dialed in to one. He made a short greeting and was soon connected to a feminine sounding voice. “Hi, daddy,” the person cooed. “Hello,” replied Doug’s deep voice. “What are you doing?” “Just talking to you.” “Oh good,” the softness replied. “What do you look like?” “Tall. Muscular. Dark skin,” answered Doug. “Ooh, daddy. I’m five-nine. I weigh one-fifty and got a big fat. No more" my words distorted by the fierce pummeling my body is still getting. Tears stream down my face but none of the men seem to care. Instead the one who stands before me just pushes his cock against my lips and I know I'd better do what he wishes of me. I close my eyes and part my lips, dreading what I know is coming but before it happens the man behind me begins pounding into me with such force that I am shoved forward, catching myself with my hands on the dirty floor so that my ass is. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. Your ass is getting hotter and now my pussy is getting wet. " Nine, sorry. Ten, sorry." You voice is starting to waver. I flip up your dress and look at your soft, round, pink ass. The white string of your panties standing out against the pink of your ass. My hand slowly rubs your sore ass cheeks. " You will get the next ten on your bare ass. " I feel your pussy hot on my leg. I peek over and see how wet your panties are. My next swat comes down on the inside of.