I clinched up my hands and started pounding on his chest. He turned his shoulder to guard himself from my punches. I grabbed him and tried to trip him... down on the floor. He was too strong but submitted himself on his back. I climbed on top of him and guided his dick inside my cunt. I started slapping his face. YOU ARE SUCH A FUCKING PRICK, TODD, I said. He covered his face and blocked the punches as he laughed. I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, YOU FUCKING, ASSHOLE, I said, still slapping him and. Hope bid the women good day with an air of nonchalance, as though out for a promenade in the park, and the three were led through the equally excited throngs of gathering women, to an elevated space to the rear of the platform.Three stout tethering poles stood equidistant apart, in line with the three nooses on the platform before them, Hope thoroughly enjoying the sadistically erotic significance of their positioning, and knew the three males would be guessing ... and now hoping, on its. ”“Okay you can ask,” he exhaled nervously.“I understand you and your wife, Karen Hayward frequent the Hen House?” The officer began.“Yes, we do.”“When was the last time you were there with her?”“Last night,” he stated.“What did you do?”“Yesterday was my birthday. My wife, our girlfriend Wendy, actually, Wendy is more like my wife. We planned on going to the Hen House to celebrate my birthday with our usual sexy fun. Karen and I had an argument about her wearing clothes that covered her up and. But I was a rookie in that respect and woke with for me, the grandmother of all hangovers.The only thing that made my situation any better was the certain knowledge that my husband’s hangover was worse; much worse if the green-grey colour of his skin was anything to judge by.The conference had officially ended the night before so there was no real need to go down to breakfast the next morning but, if I was to support my husband all the way, I needed to be present at every opportunity. William.