 She was a teen model once, but fuckspy her binging and purging over the years left her looking fuckspy a little fuckspy rough around the edges. Still most men who saw her desired her, even fuckspy if only for one night stands, her marriage was one of fuckspy convenience fuckspy. He brought home fuckspy a check, and she'd open the gate...if you know what I mean. Last but not least was Lindsay. She worked fuckspy for the phone company, and this baby had jpeg back..and fuckspy then some. She fuckspy was fuckspy average height fuckspy, had been fuckspy active in sports in high school, and fuckspy probably the fuckspy most muscle per pound out of the four.
 Just listen to my voice and let go. Relax fuckspy. You can't fight it fuckspy, there's fuckspy no point. I won fuckspy and you are exhausted, so fuckspy sleepy, so tired, just worn out. Your muscles are fatigued, your mind is fuckspy tired. You fuckspy can't even think, you're too tired. You don't fuckspy want to think, you need me to think for you, Lindsay, let go and let Lindsay, let fuckspy go and let Lindsay. Now whisper it back to me."
 Lindsay continued fuckspy. "You're going to totally relax, and block out every sound but my voice." Monica turned down the music, and put on just soft static in the background as white noise. The women were all fascinated, would it work?
 Amanda is fuckspy secretly a submissive ?" Semi ignoring her, fascinated with her new found power, Lindsay fuckspy replied. "Yeah, seems fuckspy like it don't it fuckspy?"
 Oh-my-god fuckspy..is that good!" she said. She fuckspy wolfed it down, then hiccupped. She ate another and another, and another. She sat staring, looking like she'd fuckspy just fuckspy finished a tequila shooter contest fuckspy. "Stand up and fuckspy walk over her a minute Amanda", said Lindsay fromacross the room. Amanda stood up, almost fell over and fuckspy giggled, then tried fuckspy to stagger over to Lindsay. She was WASTED. Like a total drunk, off of pickles.
 Lindsay knew dropping Amanda fuckspy off was the last thing fuckspy she was going fuckspy to do, she fuckspy had her trigger up her sleeve, and was ready for fuckspy a weekend of being pampered, having a maid, Someone to do her cooking and fuckspy just plain fuckspy boss around. Um, sure fuckspy, I'll drop her off, then fuckspy have fuckspy her call you when she's safe and fuckspy sound. See y'all Monday fuckspy. Lindsay and Amanda got into Lindsay's car fuckspy, as everyone drove off.
 Up hastily, tossing fuckspy it all fuckspy into the hamper and let the dry cleaner sort it out. Not this weekend though. Her friend, a stuck up most of then time interior designer would be the maid.
 Who knows how many times now, how deep was this one?
 You wish you could let me think for you so jpeg you could throw fuckspy yourself into doing my bidding, totally obedient, totally compliant, absolutely under my control, don't you?
 Lindsay then lifts her arm, and fuckspy places the pit fuckspy up fuckspy against Amanda fuckspy's face. It's slightly fuckspy pungent after fuckspy a night of wrestling. "This jpeg scent plain makes you hot, you want to lick it until the scent fuckspy is all gone, but you can't, you aren't allowed. I makes your body quake in pleasure, but you are just short fuckspy of orgasm. You fuckspy can't make a sound of pleasure either,
 When fuckspy she felt sure she inhaled deeply, and fuckspy touched fuckspy her jpeg crotch, she whispered to herself fuckspy,"serve Lindsay" and trembled. She fuckspy did the fuckspy same fuckspy with the hose and socks. When she got to fuckspy the underwear and panty crotches fuckspy, she trembled as she sorted, wanted to bury her face fuckspy in them, to jpeg show her admiration, her submission, but she didn't want to get caught, she was so wet now fuckspy it fuckspy showed through her outfit. Once the room was tidy she looked fuckspy it over, and said out loud. "Tidy this mess fuckspy." Then stood in trance, silently waiting for her next command.
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