‘And how is the mother doing?’ he asked as he rose and drew her close, dropping a kiss on her forehead. ‘Much better now,’ she sighed and loop...ed her hands around his waist, absorbing his scent … the faint smell of his aftershave. ‘Wanna go out for dinner, Sam?’ asked Fred as he pulled back and looked into her light brown eyes which shone with love. ‘I already cooked the dinner,’ she said apologetically. ‘I didn’t know you would …’ ‘Shh … You explain too much,’ he chided playfully and squeezed. There weren’t many. The Latin-American assassin simply raised a confirmatory eyebrow. She was a beautiful woman, probably in her late thirties, but she looked younger. Her breasts were well-rounded and curved under the costume. Her stomach was well-defined, and her hips were voluptuous. She looked every inch a Salma Hayek. And that husky Latin-American accent!! That sound sent ripples of heat all the way down to her sex. Too many women with sexy accents in her life, she thought. ‘Tell me. His mildest suggestion to you is an order, and any order a peremptory command. I know his tastes well; you need not expect anything demeaning. But his appetite is a demanding one, even for a god, and you can expect him to have his fill of you. To put matters simply, you will find it difficult to make him soft, at least for any length of time, and you can expect him to take you again and again and again. You must comply with his will, and at all times be conscious of the great privilege of being. Then Jason shocked me by what he said next.“If you want to fuck her ass, then you can. She is yours to do whatever you like. She is your wife for the next eighteen days.”I assume that Kevin asked if that was really the case because Jason replied.“Yes really, fuck her ass if you want to!” He went on, “She is your wife for the next eighteen days. You are free to do anything that you want.”I guess Kevin was keen on that idea by what Jason said next.“Use your finger first, I don’t think that her.