She'd never laid eyes on him before that day.Now, as she realized she'd never lay eyes on him again, she felt peculiar. That was because she felt guil...y. And that was because, now that she'd had time to think about it, the idea of never seeing Frank Mortenson again did not, in any way, make her unhappy. Her daughter was right about that. He was a beast ... had been a beast. How could she be so relieved that her husband was dead? Did that make her a monster?No. He had been the beast. Now there. Once he was dressed he stepped into the wardrobe and pressed small catch that allowed him to slide a panel across to one side. Although it looked to be free standing, the wardrobe was in fact built into the wall, the panel allowed him to crawl into an identical wardrobe in Mary's room. He knocked on the wardrobe door and waited, the door slowly opened and he found himself looking at his dark haired cousin, she was dressed in just her underwear and looked surprised to see him kneeling in her. Matt swiped his key card and took them down into the refrigeration roomand then led them toward a floor to ceiling bank of storage bins for thebodies that were currently kept in the morgue. He reached up for theoutside latch and opened one of the middle bins. Once he did that hereached inside and then slid the body out for them to see it cradled onthe movable stainless-steel tray inside the bin.The toe tag was a deep manila yellow. Jim had seen them before so it wasno surprise to see it first. He’d expected to see her strapon, but no, still naked other than the salacious thighhighs: – Your wish is my command, mistress. She crouched over him, scanning his face as her knees bent. Her hands reached to pull her bum apart. Her greasy arse touched his cockhead, and her hand went to guide it. She lowered herself, impaling herself on his sex: – Need… this… sextoy… Now, fuck me. Drill my arse. Christ, the command in her voice… as if she had to tell him. His hips rose, thrusting hard, till.
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