He took off his clothes and put on his trunks. He was really pissed off, but was feeling better to spend some time with his hot stepmother. His father... had married her a few years back. She was his trophy wife. A hot babe with long legs and a great ass. She had tits that just screamed for you to hold them. He wondered if she shaved her pussy or if she was nicely groomed. Danny planned on fucking his stepmother. He kind of thought that she might take pity on him and fuck him anyway. His. I shared my card and number for further help (if required). She was so happy with my behavior, that she thanked me so many times by making calls and messages. She even sends me messages over Whatsapp. I was happy to help her.She was a 42 years old lady and mother of 3 children. Nice looking but so simple.I was just a college past out after my MBA and has been trying to find friends there in the new city when she came as a fresh breeze to me. We started to talk and chat over the phone regularly. His hand holds my head roughly in place and my hip is pinned by the edge of his desk. He's so strong. I couldn't escape if I wanted to, which I don't. This is what it means to be man-handled. This was where that word was born."You're real name. What's your real name?" he demands, impatient. His hand hovers above my rapidly reddening butt-cheek, and I don't know how to answer. If I did, I'm not sure I would, because I want him to hit me again. I want to feel his control. I want him to make me. I grabbed my cosmetics bag and decided to wear light makeup, only wearing mascara to accentuate my brown eyes and a smudge of lip gloss. I gave a deep sigh as I looked myself over in the mirror. I looked good, my breasts were a bountiful C cup and they stood high on my chest. My mom would be angry that I wasn't wearing a bra but she would get over it. Because I was in ballet, I had an obscenely strict diet and an equally insane workout plan. And because of this my body was somewhat frail but.