Whipped wife

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Diane Hathaway crossed her long, tapered legs and pushed her ass cheeks against the back of the living room couch as she rubbed the tall, cold glass slowly over her flushed cheeks. The blonde was trying to fight down the hot, mushy feeling between her legs. She lowered her eyes to the green carpet and tried to appear as if she were completely unconcerned with what was happening around her. But the way that man's eyes were zooming in on her body for a close-up! The way his stares seemed to burn through her clothing and sear across her flesh made her skin crawl with excitement. Diane's fingers trembled, making the ice rattle against the sides of the glass as she took another long sip of her drink.

"And that's it, ladies. My company's willing to take a chance on you if you'll take a chance with us," the tall, black-haired man said breezily as he flashed another hot glance at Diane. The nervous blonde felt her pussy stirring with the kind of hot excitement and lust that she swore she'd never give in to again. Diane knew only too well that it was this kind of feeling that got her into trouble every time. She lost her cherry to the high school football team captain because she couldn't keep her twat under control that night of the senior prom. God! The way they fucked and fucked that night under the stars on top of his tuxedo jacket, staining the white material with cum, blood from her ruptured hymen and sweat, made Diane think that that dream would never end.

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