The spheres of her ass part barely enough to form a thumbnail shadow. She rises and tosses the crumple of bright string onto the sand near the faded ...ellow caftan. She takes a half glance over her shoulder where she knows he stands watching. There’s a shimmer of playful deadliness in her eyes. A visible streak of uncertainty, as if she isn’t quite the same inside as out. His throat tightens. Air goes in and out of his lungs in a stream too small for his body. Blood hammers through his veins. Still bent and held in a spread between his body and arm he shoved fingers deep into the hot mire between her legs. “Wiggle that tail, little pig, let me feel it.” He fingered her deep and she used her muscles in blind obedience to move the little swirl of tail, feeling the plug push and shift against his fingers.She knew it was going to happen, she felt the building tingle and the uncontrollable urge to release as he slammed his fingers deep and then she screamed. “No, no, no” as the pressure. For one, the moaning he had been listening to was not in his dream, but rather coming from his wife’s room next door. The pain he had felt was also real, and it emanated from the cruel new chastity device his mother-in-law had fitted him for earlier that evening.He grimaced as he shifted in his crib, feeling now the soggy warm wetness of his diapers that were surrounding him. He took small consolation that there would be no danger of leaks, what with the triple layers of Birdseye cloth and two. "I'm here Shane, come on in." A feminine voice came from somewhere behind the stairs in the end of the hall. Moments later the woman appeared and Thia knew her immediately 'this must be his mom' she thought.If Dina looked so much like Shane, she was a copy from her mom; Mrs. Wilson was a short woman, black long hair, grey eyes. She looked young to be Shane's mother, late forties maybe."Shane," She smiled as she hugged her son, turning to look at Thia, Mrs. Wilson had a strange look on her face.
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