Big masculine hands are soon upon my bottom, roughly kneading it like I was raw dough, his hardness pressing into my stomach aggressively. I hold back...a sigh and resolved to endure, hating myself, hating my late husband for putting me in this situation and hating my mother for being right.The hands are trembling as they unzip my skirt from the back, pressing my Sunday woollen garment to the floor like some rag. When was the last time Justin's father was this hungry for me? I can't recall.I hear. I introduced Tom, “Sadie, I’d like to have you meet my good lifelong friend and partner, Tom Gallaway. Tom, this the Marquessa Montemayor, our hostess and good friend. Tom, shut your mouth when you’re not talking.” After a gracious welcome to Tom by Sadie we sat and went over our preparations. Seems we had everything covered as well as we could without a crystal ball except for one thing, “Sadie, could I hire your gardeners to do some digging.?” Sadie countered, “Sam Ash, I’ve told you. More

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