She came, came, came. I was close myself, and her pussy husband was too, from the look of him - he'd given up taking photos now and was wanking furiou...ly, watching his fat slag wife being arse fucked, barebacked, by a man she'd never even seen. "What a slag you have here, what a fucking dirty little cunt, fat fucking pig, fat fucking skanky pig!" I was yelling now, I didn't care. I despised this slag, she turned her head to look at me, I saw her cheek, her wide eye, I spat on her face, "Don't. Pun intended.’ I had been having a pretty difficult time concentrating anyway. The first couple hours had gone well, and I had pretty well nailed down the final drafts for a couple class projects while we listened to Maroon 5 sing something catchy about Mick Jagger. After that, though, my attention had wandered. Kate was wearing a red tank-top-like garment with a swooping neckline and thin, thin straps that was like this incredibly flimsy cage enclosing a couple of healthy, robust wild animals. More

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