.... C h a p t e r 9 When the bedroom door clicked shut, Susan turned the lock in the center of the knob and with a hard, tight voice said to Bill. "Your hot assed wife just got finished fucking my boy friend in here, and I don't want any conversation from you at all. I'm still mad as hell, and the only thing that's going to make up for it, is for you to fuck me, or me to fuck you. I don't care which, but, I'm going to have one whole load of your slippery cream in my cunt before we leave this room!" "Now get your clothes off mister. I want your naked body, and I want it now!" Susan skinned her dress high over her head, her body clad in a brassiere, panties that just covered her tiny full hips, a garter belt holding up her thigh high stockings. Bill hadn't seen a woman wear a garter belt except in the fuck movies, for years, delighted by her tiny figure. While he kicked of his shoes and peeled off his socks, he watched her reach behind her back to get the catch on her bra, unfastening it to spill her pert titties from the wispy silk covering. Her breasts were full for her slight figure and as she pulled her panties from her tiny flared hips the chestnut brown curly ringlets of her cunt peeked from the vee between her legs. Shirt, trousers and shorts gone, Bill stood by the bed, bare, his heel touched the recorder switch and slipped it on. "Do you want to fuck me, or have me fuck you?" Susan asked, still clad in the garter belt and stockings. I don't care, just as long as I get fucked." She stood, hands in fists on her hips, looking delightful to Bill's eyes. His cock, dormant, began to fill and raise from his testicles. "Well, how about you fucking me. That seems only fair under the circumstances," Bill lay on the bed, careful to make sure he was positioned correctly for the camera lens, crossing his hands behind his neck, watching her tiny body as she crawled onto the bed. |