Desi Housewife Muniza Fucked By Her Hubby...

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She took it, and sat back, studying it. Jamie was staring at her, obviously nervous.She looked across at him and smiled. "You've made my tits too big, you know? And my areolae are different, too. What did you do? Look for a nude image in the same approximate pose, and morph the two together?"Surprised, he nodded. "Yes, I did. I had to do a lot of work on skin tones, too."She handed the picture back to him. He took it, surprised, and slipped it back into his shirt pocket, staring at her. She grinned. "Nice work, Jamie." She paused for a moment. "Jamie! Relax, hon. Um, may I be blunt? Ask a couple of very personal questions?"Obviously nervous, he nodded. "Okay." You use the picture as stimulus when you jack off, right?" He nodded, mute. "Who do you see in your imagination? Who is the woman you're fucking?"He was surprised by the question, she could tell, but answered immediately. "You, of course!" Me?" Yes, you! If I'd wanted an actress, or a model, or a porn star, someone like that,. "Yes?" she asked."Police, ma'am," said one of the two uniformed officers. "Are you Mrs. Akers? Mrs. Kerri Akers?" Yes, what is it officers?" she said wondering if they had somehow found out and come to arrest her for prostitution."Could we come in?" Yes. Yes, or course," she said swinging the door open and admitting them into the small front hall."Ma'am, I'm afraid we have some bad news, some very bad news." It's Kyle isn't it?" she cried, her heart already in sympathy with the young man who had defiled and prostituted her."Yes Ma'am. There's been a shooting." Is he all right? Is he hurt?" she asked urgently her heart in her throat."Ma'am, I'm sorry. Your son is dead."The reality hit her like a sledge. The last single vestige of a reason to live had, in that handful of words, been taken from her. He was gone. The one small light that remained in her life. Despite his actions and words, he was her son. He was of her body and carried in him, a part of her, a part that could yet have.
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His eyes immediately found hers, his arrogant smirk curling his lip. Julie looked away quickly. A few times during lunch Julie attempted to get Greg to discuss business, but he resisted. Every time she tried, he deflected her questions, asking questions of his own. Mostly personal questions. He asked her husband’s name, how long they had been married, did they have children? No? Were they planning on any? She was increasingly uncomfortable with his probe into her life outside of work. She kept trying to redirect the conversation back toward work related topics. But Greg seemed determined to pry. And Julie was determined to be as gracious as she could, smiling her best and trying to answer his questions in a polite and professional manner. It was all she could do not to sigh with relief when the group finally pushed back their chairs and prepared to leave. ‘So when are you flying back?’ one of the veeps was asking the group. One of Greg’s colleagues pointed to himself and the other.

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