“Well, yeah, sort of.”She rose up to an indignant half sit, “What the hell do you mean 'sort of'? You fucked me eleven times in four days, how ...n hell could that be a 'sort of'?”“You kept count?”“Of course!” she looked me puzzled for a moment then conceded, “I guess you wouldn't, guys only remember getting the noodle wet, not how many times it got wet.” She snuffled a quick laugh, fell back to the chair and reminisced, “Four times we did it in the room right next to mom and dad, remember how. He put his hand on the small of her back and led her towards a curtain.Then he pulled aside the curtain to reveal an old wooden set of stocks.His dark hand slid down and began squeezing her smooth white ass cheek. Then that black bastard ordered my wife to step onto the wooden platform.Anita obediently stepped up and put her hands in place while turning to him."Please don't hurt me". She begged with tears in her eyes. He chuckled evilly and pushed her neck down into the worn wooden collar. As. More

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