Paris hummed to herself as she pushed the door open and stepped into her dimly lit suite. Tossing her backpack on the floor, she let the door swing sh...ut behind her before sliding the deadbolt shut with a satisfying ˜clunk'.The blinds were open enough to allow a sufficient amount of moonlight to shinethrough the windows in her suite. Reaching over, she flipped the light switch on, her brow furrowing in confusion as the room remained enshrouded in moonlit darkness. "Dammit," she muttered to. Her eyes were still closed. She was breathing pretty deep and hard. I was too, almost sick from need for her. "Fuck." she said, finally. "I, uh..." She didn't continue, looked down into her lap instead. "You know, swearing is also on the list of roadway improprieties..." I mockingly made as if to turn the wheel to the right again. She laughed softly, but her voice was a purr now. "I don't think that's the punishment you seem to think it is, babe." I was seriously, desperately hot, and. That he was no longer attracted to me. That he felt resentful toward me. That I had changed too much. After a week of constant crying, of self harming for the first time in years, of sleeping on a palette of piled sheets and blankets in the nursery next to my baby’s crib, he came to me. He said he’d been wrong. He said he never meant a word, that he just needed to ‘get it out’. He had needed to see me hurting over him. We resumed. I began to put forth more effort. I truly believed that more. The girl he'd fantasized about so often in the past was lying naked on his bed with her legs spread, waiting for him to fuck her. He walked between her legs and placed his hands under her thighs. With Christine's ass just barely on the bed, he placed the tip of his cock at the entrance to her cunt.Christine eagerly moved it into place and helped get the thick head inside her. Then she let Justin take over. There wasn't a whole lot he had to do. Christine was very wet and ready—Justin just.