Fucking My Wife

At the base of her spine, a gap existed in the small of her back, between the fabric of the skirt and the lightly bronzed flesh covering her vertebrae. As she moved, flashes of pink material could be seen in the darkness.She led him into a spacious front room. In the middle of the room was a table that could comfortably seat four. It was set for two.Amanda sat him down then headed back into the kitchen. Mick watched her depart. When she was out of his view, he turned his attention to the room. It was comfortably decorated but had a definite feminine slant. It was fairly obvious that no man lived here, or did so long enough to leave a mark. The stereo was basic, as was the TV and video. Money was obviously spent elsewhere. Thinking back to Amanda and her attire, it was apparent where any available cash went.As the sound of crockery and pans emanated from the direction of the kitchen, Mick turned his gaze towards the table. He was surprised to note that though he had a knife and fork,. Ya'll most of all. And then we kin look back later and 'member how good we felt... wouldn't ya like that?"Amy was disgusted. She absolutely refused, though she knew she really had no choice. Her defiance incensed both him and his wife. And that's how the 14-year-old ended up locked away in the cellar for almost five days, without food or water. She might have died had the retarded girl, who Amy had so thoughtlessly written off weeks before, hadn't poured cups of water under the doorway for her to lap up greedily like a dog.When her social worker made a surprise visit, Sarah, Charles' wife, came down to the basement to wake up Amy. After getting slapped a few times Amy came-to and heard the fat woman make her threats: pain, torture, etc. She would suffer, the girl was told, unless she played along."Keep yer mouth shut 'n only tell'em you're happy, geddit?" Mrs. Farris demanded.Amy had pretended to be scared. She wasn't, though. She was starving and dehydrated, but she wasn't scared of.
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