It was a really powerful scent.I looked over at her. Our eyes locked again and she slowly moved one of the suitcases out of the way so that I could se... her legs. I closed my laptop and moved closer to her on the bench. She looked deep into my eyes and moved her hand onto her thigh. She closed her eyes and moaned softly and looked at me. She pulled her hand lower almost touching her pussy outside of her pants suit and rubbed a quick circle motion in her crotch. I pulled my hand off of my laptop. Herexpression was one of pure disgust. She looked at me as though I were abug she'd found in the shower. She was seeing me in a different light inthat one fleeting instant. I was no longer a man in her eyes. I saw thatall in the one brief look she allowed me before I lowered my eyes andmoved to the side.What else could I do? There were a dozen men crowded around us and theman who held my wife's hand was enormous. He was the most imposing BlackMan I'd ever seen. His skin was as dark as midnight. Although their two situations were vastly different in many ways, it could be rationalised that they were similar in some. James, who was closing himself off again, had failed to realise just how much Jasmine must be hurting, especially having the first emotion she ever felt be grief and sadness.He only realised it at the end of these few weeks, when even Jasmine had stopped her efforts as much to distract him, and grown somewhat despondent herself. Not only Jasmine, but James’ poor mood had. When Michelle got home she showered and used her last douche to try and clean the filth that had been deposited in her. She was scared she was pregnant. Scared of what had happened. Scared of what was to happen yet. She looked at the Red corselet and stockings and heels in the corner and burst into tears she didn’t even remeber taking them off. She cried herself to sleep. She slept to nearly noon the next day. After she woke she showered again. She was so sore. She could barely sit. Peeing.
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