Dressed in skinny jeans and a clingy camisole, she teetered towards me on heels. She looked like a footballer’s wife and smelled strongly of Chanel ...hance, which I recognised as I occasionally wore it too.“Well, well, well,” the woman said slowly and dramatically, kissing both of my cheeks and looking mildly repulsed as she touched my damp hoodie. “I knew it. I just knew it. I knew there had been a change in him, and it must be down to you.”I recognised the accent immediately; she was the woman. "Start again," I told her as I took her closest nipple between mythumb and forefinger.I could have just masturbated her myself, but I didn't want to rush her and it was also almost better to make her do it herselfwhile I watched and played with other parts of her.On the screen, the woman had been handcuffed to a hook on the ceiling of a dank room while thetwo men stood either side of her, fucking her pussy and ass.Amanda's nipple hardened as I played with it.I moved my hand to the other nipple. More

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