The thick jumpsuits and her developed pectoral muscles still hide them for now. Though if she kept developing like her sisters, she didn’t have long...before they would be noticed by everyone and not just Justin.“Shit,” she said angrily.Justin laughed. He hit the bunk above him with his fist, “Time to get Wombat, Merry Christmas.” He heard Brad groan and roll.“What bloody time is it?” he mumbled.“Breakfast time,” Tyson added as he dropped off the other top bunk.They all laughed. The kid just. All I wanted was for him to be inside me again. I hurriedly moved onto my hands and knees and he pushed my dress up, sliding down my panties and untangling them from one leg and then the other. The scrap of black lace ended up on the carpet a few feet away from me. I felt his hand caress my bare ass almost thoughtfully. I knew what was coming but no amount of foreboding could have stopped me gasping when his palm cracked down.“Fuck!”He sighed. “C’mon, now. How many times have I told you about. Imagining him fucking you would just frustrate you but you always felt dirty whenever you thought about his friends from the poker games laying between your legs as you milked their cocks with your tight walls. These forbidden fantasies would get you off in an instant which is why you normally tried to stay clear of the guys whenever your husband invited them over. You tried to be the fun girlfriend in the beginning who played hostess at their games so you could ingratiate yourself with them. After introducing Lisa (as my wife) and Fiona (a close friend), she introduced her husband, Alan Hartley.“So, apart from getting married – congratulations, by the way – what have you been doing? Are you still at Mona Vale Hospital?” I asked her.“No, I left there about four years ago; I’m now the Director of Nursing – the fancy new title for ‘Matron’ - at John Hunter Hospital, in Newcastle. That’s where I met Alan, we bumped into each other – literally – at the supermarket, and, well, we’ve been.
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