My wife was a brainless, quivering, sweaty mess, an empty vessel for our black lab’s lust. Anal sex My still-brain-fucked wife emerged from the bathroom in her soaked workout clothes. You got work?”
I nodded. “So. . “Almost there. “Almost there. He never did. Good timing, boy. there was always a way, especially where we lived. But some cash.”
She leaned in to kiss my forehead. While she showered, I sprayed the living room with a scent to mask the odor of canine-and-human coupling. (Was that racist? Can you show these nice people how you clean Gunther’s balls from the inside?”
That’s all it took. Her pale white boobs bounced out, pink nipples erect. Gunther pummeled her backside with jackhammer thrusts, forcing guttural sounds out of his bitch. That wasn’t how this game worked. But some cash.”
She leaned in to kiss my forehead. But I feel great.” She walked into the living room, and then the bathroom. Good?”
“Yeahhh,” she said. I mulled over our finances.
