’ ‘OK,’ I said, trying to get some blood to flow back to my brain, ‘a dozen.’ ‘Not even close,’ she replied. ‘I have more than forty b...as that I wear regularly!’ Now this got my attention. ‘You have what? More than forty bras?’ I asked her. ‘I thought you told me a few weeks ago that they’re more expensive in your size?’ ‘Yes, silly,’ she said, ‘that’s just the point. I buy them whenever there’s a sale or some kind of promotion. I wait for those and then I try to get a discount by buying as. But she was at least a cup size bigger and without a saggy stretch mark in sight. They were real, too - I could tell by the way they leapt back and forth like loose blancmanges as he fucked her.She looked undeniably beautiful with her slender, gazelle-like shape bucking back and forth, blue eyes gazing adoringly up at my husband as she lay sprawled across my kitchen table with her legs spread.I wanted to shout out - to call her a whore, a slut and a bitch.That’s my fucking husband you’ve got. More

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