The man and woman passed under one of the archways of the monument, where a stone table had been placed in the center as an altar for sacrifice. Shack...les and chains were secured in the four corners, binds for whatever poor soul was offered to appease the dead. They had rusted in the decades since the monument’s construction, but remained strong.The man threw her onto the altar and drew a knife. It was coated with a layer of silver. First, he locked her ankles in the shackles at one end, then. It was nice, very nice. Like somebody really lived there. All my friends just sort of camped out with used furniture and a lot of plastic crates for color. Amy, however, seemed to have gotten her decorating ideas from somewhere other than Wal-Mart. She had a red sofa and two blue stuffed chairs that actually looked like they were all meant to be in the same room. She had a coffee table and a bunch of other wooden furniture that was light and modern and looked like it had just been unloaded off. And I loved her for it and missed her so much. But it was true. Mom and dad weren't my real mom and dad. They had adopted me when I was about two and raised me into the sexual deviant I was today. I had a photo of my old mom and dad. Real mom was a fraught looking woman. Bone-skinny with a permanent frown on her face. A difficult woman to like or be around from what I gathered as I'd never felt the urge to explore the family tree.Apparently, I looked a lot like my real dad. He had a touch of. She let out a soft moan and slid one hand between her legs, no doubt rubbing her throbbing clitoris. With the other hand she was squeezing her huge boobs and pinching her long erect nipples. This is one horny fucking woman needing to cum yet again. As I kept playing with her fine ass, I felt warm lips kissing my hardening cock. Barbara had been awakened by Pam’s masturbation as well and started sucking the hell out of my cock. I was already turned on watching Pam as she was rubbing one out, so.