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“I’m so sorry Master.” I exclaim while lowering my eyes and bowing between his legs so that I’m face-down, ass-up just the way he likes.“Stay where you are and think about what you have done,” he tells me.I feel him getting out of bed. I cannot see anything as my face is buried in the sheets, but I hear him walk into the bathroom. Soon I hear him relieving himself and the sound is mesmerizing to me. My mind races with memories of the last time he pissed all over me in the shower and I can. I guessed, she wanted to be with me, for the sake of support and security, but needed to get back to Jamie and Ben, and maybe to see if Peter had left any more messages.We were in the kitchen, just talking about the day ahead, with me saying that we'd do something as a family, and Ben would have to forego his cycling, when her phone started ringing from her handbag.She got it out, and looked at it, and her face went white. "Yes?" she answered nervously.After that I heard one half of an. It was our foreigner neighbor wearing his boxer and t-shirt before.I could utter a word and he barged inside the flat and locked the door. I could smell alcohol all over him. He held my wet hair tighs and pushed me against the wall. He was nearly double my weight, easily 6 feet 3 inches and highly muscular body. How could have I resisted him. Holding me against the wall, he grabbed my pussy over my gown, and was squeezing him tight, kissing me at the same time. I was not wearing anything under. I’d never seen her wear it. I took it from the hanger and let the soft, flowing fabric sift through my fingers.The hair on the back of my neck stood up and my heart flew into my throat. I had worn pairs of her panties before, but that was about pleasure, about getting off and having something, anything of a woman’s nearby. But I couldn’t wear a skirt. Could I? I wanted to. Why did I want to?My eyes flickered to the corner, where a pile of old clothes had fallen forgotten behind the hanging.
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