She said, "Good morning." She poured coffee and fixed it before joining us at the kitchen table. She looked at us and grinned. "Was there a storm last...night?"Karen said, "No. The weather's been clear all week."Her mother said, "Well, that may be but there was some happy thunder coming from your room last night." She giggled as she saw her daughter's, my wife's, face. I kept out of this.Karen struggled out with, "We have a license, Mother. I love what Brad does to me." So it would seem. Is there. I expect him to start fucking my face, but he stays there.“Is this what you wanted, whore? Is this what you fucking wanted," he asks, slapping my cheek softly. I moan with his cock down my throat, trying to say anything, really. He just whispers to me, “Lick my fucking balls, baby. Lick my fucking balls with my cock down your throat, slut.” I try to lick his balls, but I know I'm not doing it as well as I should. He gives me two quick, swift slaps on the cheek and says, loudly, “Do it, whore!”. More

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