Throughout the rest of the night Ana kept texting me with updates on how it was going, saying she had been having a few drinks and she was very horny ...hinking about fucking that black guy.After midnight I got a final text stating she was on her way back home, accompanied by this guy, called Omar; he was Moroccan…I heard them entering our house as I was waiting in the guest room; I had set our main bedroom up with the side lamp on and secretly positioned two cameras so I could record. With my face scraped clean, my braids in place, and wearing theprescribed cotton dress over my numerous petticoats, I sat at thebreakfast table carefully studying this female master of the household.She had already given the baby his meal and had tied in her breasts andpadded her waist, so there was not the slightest sign that, under hershirt and vest, was hidden the body about which I had dreamed over thepast two years. Her hair had been cut even shorter than I had habituallyworn mine. There. More

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