She surely had been told to expect me."Yes, dad told me you were coming. You do have the right kind of look for the job. Even that god awful hair will...work," she said."So you are the fashion expert," I said with a big smile. It was a bit demeaning I know."Dear, I will be shooting your images. Dad is semi retired these days. He takes care of the clients mostly." she said. "By the way my name is Wilma." So it's a family thing. That's always good," I admitted."Well let's get to it. Dad said I only. Telling her what to do, ordering her what to do. Brad had warped her mind. She wanted to please him, more than anything else. That morning, as Brad groped her tits, with Peter watching, she hoped he would go further. She could feel her arousal building. Her disgust at her own husband rose. Pathetic weakling. Being stupid enough to be caught with the evidence, to give Brad the lever over him. Submitting to the cock cage. And now sitting there practically drooling at her, hoping Brad would let. More

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