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I seized her asscheeks and rubbed my cock against her sphincter.“You ready, bimbo?” I groaned.“I...” She threw a look over her shoulder, her face flushed with excitement. “Will it hurt?”“No,” I told her and thrust.Her eyes widened. She shuddered beneath me, her body writhing atop Natalie's. The hot wife beneath gasped and moaned, clearly cumming on Donna's pussy. Donna herself let out a low, throating moan as more and more of my cock, wet with Kimberly's spit, slid deeper into her bowels, lubed. Rush hour wouldn't start for another couple of hours. She couldmake it to the new address in half an hour or less. She was excited,because she wouldn't have to settle for complimenting some executiveabout the wonderful bra; she could thank its creator, Charisma,herself!The next address wasn't home to Charisma, either. It was occupied byBlanche Deevers, a beautician. Blanche, a tall, striking redhead, wasbusy teasing the frizzy blonde tresses of a willowy blonde when thebell tinkled above her. Robinson thing going on-if Mrs. Robinson had grown up in the Appalachian Mountains, that is. She wasn’t skinny like Cheryl, nor was she round like Debi Sue, but Abby had a figure that some people would call buxom, and it totally worked for her. Abby’s dark brown hair was long, and she let it hang down freely, unlike most women in their late 40’s. And she was as tall as I was. Her blue eyes were the kind that you could totally get busted staring at-they were that pretty. And she had round, firm. The first few days wereso strange, watching her so upset, in my body, feeling so lost, sohelpless. I did make an effort to find out more. Together we met with villagers,seeking information, some answer, some way to return things to the waythey were. It was the old woman who convinced me that it had happened -and that it was permanent.We eventually returned home and struggled to adjust somehow to ourlives. It wasn't easy. It was a huge strain on both us. She was forcedto go to my work, and I.
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