He wrapped his muscular arms around my waist to steady me.“Did you here that tearing sound?” Devonte asked my husband.He nodded his head yes.“Th...t’s the sound your wife’s pussy will make when I plow it home,” he growled.My throat felt contracted to the point where I couldn’t speak. Devonte was crude and disrespectful. A man I would normally despise but this was far from normal. I recalled slapping a boy’s face while in college for telling me I had a nice rack. With Devonte, I offered no such. He reached out and gently touched her cheek. Reflexively, her face assumed a startled expression which was quickly replaced by a quizzical look. “I didn’t want to offend you,” he said, drowning in her green eyes. “I still flinch when someone touches me unexpectedly. Immobility makes me feel vulnerable.” “I will never do that again. I sympathize with your predicament.” “Yes, I am to be pitied. The poor woman, whose body was crushed, who can do nothing but complain, and can’t even pee without. More

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