The sender was B. Tomalin and the subject: she called me. Ross did not know a B. Tomalin. Routinely he deleted such emails unread, but the subject ...gave him pause. Who was ?she? and what did it have to do with him? After hesitating briefly, he opened the email.The only text was an automated ?From the office of Brad Tomalin.? At that moment Ross had no idea of the arrogance and insolence of those simple words.There were two attachments: a jpeg and an mpeg.This was a different matter. . Her job requiredthat she look stunning all day "to impress the locals" she said,and her underthings were extremely seductive and romantic because,as she said, "It gives me confidence for my job -- I like to feelfeminine from the skin on out." She'd been amused to ask me to puton one or another item now and then even before we were married, tosee how I looked -- I'd say "Silly!" and she'd say with ahalf-smile, "Nooo, not at all! Sexy!" But now, she waspersistent. Every day she kept urging. He paused while her body adjusted, then pulled back a little. She began to protest just as he slid his cock forward and through her cherry. “Oh god,” softly cried as he felt his cock enter unexplored territory. A third such stroke had his cock pressing against her cervix. Despite being as fully into her as he could be, he still had a half an inch or so he could have given her, had she been a little deeper inside. He began sawing in and out of her always stopping when he felt her cervix at the. I had planned to just curl up in a ball until someone came in to stop this wild bitch. She pulled me back to my kneeled-over position at the toilet."You're not going anywhere, cutie-pie." Then I felt her pull my dress up and pull my panties down. I was panting with fear now. She stood over me, straddling me, as I started to sob softly, my voice ragged with pain and shock. I could feel her legs on either side of me, and I just stared down into the bowl, praying it would end. She stroked my hair.