I had to kill him, to protect my family, but I didn't have to, I couldn't, torture him. I needed to make it quick and clean. I could have sworn I saw ... fleeting look of disappointment in his eyes, through the pain in them, as I reached my decision.All of this flew through my brain in the brief seconds it took him to pull himself up from the floor. One arm was useless, he could hardly stand on the one leg, and he was obviously in great pain. But all of that was just damage from the fight, not. I rubbed my clit as we moved back and forth. He was my lover and I let my tongue go crazy in his mouth as we both breathed hard. It was a was wonderful afternoons with him. &hellip,. I heard my Aunt come home upstairs and we had to stop. They pretty much lived separate lives. She lived in the world of her work, and he did his work things on his computer and the work shop down here in the basement. The basement door opened &hellip, &hellip,It wasnt my aunt, it was my mom. &hellip,I hoped there. Nine months later I, just barely eighteen, produced a son and we turned out to be buddies sort of growing up and learning things together. My husband was a spree drinker who often became violent and abusive when on a binge, and later in our marriage, he had mistress after mistress. He hunted, fished and threw away resources, causing me to have to work like a Trojan to keep things afloat. When he wasn't drunk he kept me sexually fulfilled and, after time passed, I overcame my Puritan view of. ..they seemed so real, and huge. I had enough "lift" to create an ampleamount of cleavage gathered up within the confines of that strapless,sexy pink item.I pulled off the hairdryer bonnet and threw it on the bed. Closing herdoor I looked at my reflection in her mirror. "Wow!" I said to myself. Ipulled the robe back on and began to strike sexy poses in front of themirror. It was then that I noticed my hair."I don't remember pinning my hair up..." My hand slowly reached up andtook one of the.