But he knew her kryptonite and just like superman it could kill her, or maybe superwoman, that was what he thought the bitch believed she was. There w...ere twenty games this year. Two a week for two months and two weeks with three games. Then of course the playoffs eight more games if you go all the way. She wouldn't go all the way through this season and steal his son's glory- not going to happen.He had suffered more than a thousand insults because of her, often veiled as compliments. "Your boy. . I don’t want you getting my pussy wet!” Allison cried out as she continued squirming.Despite her ‘protests’, in her squirming she managed to get her legs spread wide apart; it was easy for my next few smacks to have my fingers press right against her pussy. I could see her labia starting to swell and spread; and there was a sheen of wetness coating her pussy. Her protests had turned into soft moans; and instead of just smacking her backside, I would let my fingers hit her pussy, then I would. I could not enjoy sex with her. Somehow we had a baby and I started loving my baby and tried to move on in life. Once in a while, we used to go to her village for a day or two and come back. The issue of not getting enjoyable sex was getting me very frustrated and irritable. Every time I used to visit her village my eyes would catch the attention of one of her aunts.Lissy aunty was around 37 years, slim, tall and very fair with a certain grace in her movements and even the way she spoke. She. At first, she was concerned about her “things” and what would happen to the accumulation of material objects over her lifetime. They solved that worry in a hurry by turning the entire affair over to Mister Gaddington and his quartet of Estate Auctioning experts that picked her house clean in a single weekend. All she had left was a single old fashioned trunk that looked like some vaudeville joke hiding a murdered corpse inside. Of course, she still had her small valise with her jewelry and her.