The stamps are already on, don't worry.Find a parking spot and close the car. Put your keys in one of the envelopes, go to the mailbox and send them b...ack home. You'll retrieve the car with your spare keys later.Now head to the post office. Get your number and sit down. I hope the office is not packed with people because now you're going to take off your panties. Yes right there. Take your time, do it as discretely as you want. If you can. Once the panties are off put them in an envelope. When. You carry on, spanking me, hard. i am struggling not to cry but the tears come. Also the feeling of belonging comes, the feeling of being owned. i know i am yours.You make me stand up, put my hands on my head, spread my legs. You ask someone to feel how wet i am. The woman from across the street comes forward, in front of me, her hand goes between my thighs and cups me. “She’s soaking like slut.” Her finger slides inside me and i jerk with the unexpected intrusion but she keeps sliding it in. If he wasn't married, she'd scoop him up real quick. It's been a while since they've fooled around because Wendy was off and on with some guy she met at her other job. They ended things when he called her a stupid bitch. She didn't care about the bitch part, but she damn well knew she wasn't stupid. He did try to apologize later on, but he ruined it for her. He wasn't all that good of a fuck either, so Wendy saw no reason to let him come back. 'Ya, sure, like I said, I'm at the bar. We can. I haven't said I was going like this yet," I said."I know, just let me finish with your nails and then we'll put on your makeup." Pam said, ignoring all my protests."And whores love their makeup." My wife proceeded to give my face a liberal coating of make-up, complete with long fake eyelashes."Stop calling me whore," I said, struggling to get up. "And let me look in a mirror. I want to see what kind of damage you've done."She pushed me down on the toilet seat and straddled me. The towel fell.