Fatty Desi Aunty Sex With Her Husbands Friend

If, hypothetically you were my 'wife', I wouldexpect to come home from the office to not only find a nicely preparedmeal ready, but the house cleaned from top to bottom and you havingprettied yourself for me. Of course, you would have to look beautifullyfeminine all day, but I would want to be greeted by you dressed in abest dress, a petticoat, a piny and freshly applied lipstick!" Shelooked at me, adding "Does that make sense Chrissie?" Yes it does Miss," I replied and I meant it!In fact I knew exactly what she meant and deep down that was the imagethat I'd wanted to project all of my life. To be 'the woman'. Somewhatsubjugated. To being limited in choice, or even opportunity. I wanted tobe dutiful. Put 'on display', maybe even as a 'trophy wife' for mypartner to be proud of.To have an opinion, yes. But to know that it should only be voiced onlyif asked and only then without force or conviction. To not allowing my'pretty little head to be muddled' or challenged by 'important'. She didn’t mean it to happen. My confession to her that I love her in between my apologies shook her. She never wanted any of it. Nothing was the same since that night. She cried with her hands on her mouth while leaning on the kitchen counter. I had to do something.I went to her I took hold of her body. I turned her around as I put my hands around her. I ground both of her hands-on kitchen counters. I started to kiss her. She was trying to resist. As her body was circumventing to the heat of pleasure. I broke the kiss after a few minutes.As I looked her in the eye and asked whether she didn’t want it. She replied to me. It’s not that she didn’t want it. Its that she wanted to settle a score with my brother. She was not sure whether it was right. I reassured her it was ok. I started to kiss her again. This time I felt less resistance from her.As I left her hands. She unraveled around me. I again broke the kiss. As I looked her in the eyes I saw the lust and love had mixed in her eyes..
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