We used Mrs. Armstrong, enjoyed her, and then returned her to her husband for the evening. We didn't want to break up their marriage. It was hot making her go to church with her husband, to pretend to the world that she was his demure and faithful wife while we made her our whore. The last few weeks had been naughty. It was just such a treat. It was all my brother's doing. Clint had manipulated everything, convincing the wimpy Mr. Armstrong that we needed to control his wife and keep her from being a complete whore. The supposed uptight woman was a slave to her lusts. Now she was a slave to ours. I stepped out of the car onto the gravel of the back lot and stretched my back. I shuddered, my fingers flexing. My hips wiggled back and forth as I closed the door. My lover sauntered around the vehicle, a wicked grin on her face as her mother climbed out, her auburn hair sweeping around her face. Mrs. Armstrong wore her modest dress like usual. You would never know she was a sex slave. Even the choker she wore didn't look unusual. It was a gold plate on a chain that fit snug about her throat and read, indian “Devoted Mommy.” It was so innocent. I bet the women at church admired it, not knowing it was her slave collar, proof that Stefani owned her. I unlocked the rear door of the shop. The massage parlor opened in an hour. Lee, Juana, and Carmelita would be along soon, but desi we were here a little early to teach Mrs. Armstrong. We wanted her to work here. To give wanton massages. “What if someone I know comes here,” Mrs. Armstrong said as we slipped inside the parlor. “Well, then they'll know you're a lesbian whore, too,” Stefani said. She smacked her mother on the rump. My lover's green eyes were bright, her pierced nipples pressing hard against the stretchy, material. Her breasts jiggled. “Isn't that wonderful?” “Yes, Daughter,” said Mrs. Armstrong, her cheeks blushing. And as far as indian him cumming on her leg - no problem there. The bulbous head of his dick grew and the shaft stiffened. Grunting, fingers digging into her soft thighs drawing blood.. "Have you ever wondered what my naked boobs look like Mr Riley?" She turned back to the closet as it made a grinding noise. desi He said, still angry. “I want to give you a rim job” She said. She stroked through my virgin lips, adding another teasing delight. Within a half hour and $5,000 later, Pinkie was sitting next to Larry in his red Corvette zipping down the freeway towards Beverly Hills. Did you not want your pain to end?