Not two feet away, indeed so near the slaver running from her lip occasionally splashed his face, his worshipped wife was being fabulously f****d for the first and last time in her life. And even with threatened death impending it was transparently apparent that she was also being gratified out of her tormented mind. Combined with Mistress Jennifer’s condemnation of his own c**k and prowess, this was parsecs beyond just humiliating. It made BJ feel like the bad kid on Christmas morning.
Big brother had gotten the toy he’d die for. Now it was his to enjoy – until he carelessly or maliciously broke it and tossed it aside. Meanwhile BJ didn’t receive a single gift. It was his own fault though. He’d been naughty, you see. So naughty he’d never get another present again…
Of course Jen worsene
