"I see you have freckles, Miss Conroy. I had not noticed that before. Odd. Perhaps you would prefer a dress with a high collar, a lacy stomacher as it...were. What do they call it, fichu?" He touched her sternum with the tip of his forefinger, just below her mother's rope of pearls. "To here perhaps, wide lapels are quite popular, or bows, lace to tuck in." He stuck both forefingers down into the valley between her quivering breasts and pulled her closer."Oh no," said Anne with a small smile as. For the next couple of months not at day passed without my wife either talking or texting with Jamal. We lived about two hours away from him so spur of the moment hook ups were not common but happened occasionally. Jamal would come up to our house on the weekends and fuck my wife two days straight and she would occasionally drive to his college during the week. Her whole demeanor had changed and she was like a school girl who had fallen in love again. She was constantly talking, texting. More

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