I need one!”“Yes, yes, breed my wife!” the imam had moaned and came as he jerked his cock, crying out in pleasure.It baffled me. He seemed to li...e being cuckolded. I remember him fucking Fahima so hard once after I finished with her. His wife was mewling with delight then smiled as her husband mounted her. She had this big, satiated grin on her face as she enjoyed a delicious dessert after the feast I'd given her.The door opened. It was time for me to eat. I sat up and blinked. It was the imam. If he ever wanted to use his phone, he could have just rubbed his phone on my ass, and it would unlock.He caught my throat and pulled me towards his face, and said, “You will address me as daddy, or you will be punished.”“Breakfast ready, daddy,” I said and felt very humiliated but didn’t show any reaction on my face.I was walking naked to the kitchen and gave him a plate. He was sitting on the couch. The table is directly in front of him. He could have put the plate on the table and eaten. But. "Yeah something like that, do you want to do one before you really annoy us?"he suggested."Have a nice day," I said, 'Just the one then die' I muttered."Hansen," Lord H called when he saw me, "Bugger off there's a good chap, invitation only, don't want riff raff gate crashing." Just offering to help," I explained, "I'll get off home then."I came back later. Round the fields. Over the back wall.The party was in full swing. You could hear the band five miles away. Booze flowed. Emma looked a. I let them run on ahead along the way-marked footpath, occasionally calling them to heel. All three of us slowed to a walking pace as we approached the large clearing I'd always called The Dell. Ringed by tall horse chestnut trees - now shedding the last of their ochre-red leaves - it was a near-perfect circle, today bathed in glorious winter sunshine. The dogs stood panting at my feet as I clipped a single lead to their two collars, ready for the return trek to the car park. All was quiet, but.
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