Now home, Liza struggled with her key in the
door lock. After two fumbling minutes, the door opened and the tired girl
stomped inside, throwing her bag and jacket down on the sofa. Noises came from
upstairs. She immediately knew what it was. That
bitch! With my fucking husband.
In her mind one thought popped to the surface
past the anger and unseen images of what she could hear. Liza was there asking her dear hubby, 'Has my sis been here?
Maybe she wanted to talk. Or fuck you...' And dear hubby nodded, yes, she's
been here. And he followed by saying: 'I had her normal ways. She felt so damn
good. Better than you.'
Those insane thoughts
evaporated and were replaced by the new reality when Liza entered the bedroom,
her and her husband's bedroom, and saw
them fucking. Her husband, named Pete, was taking her sister from behind, doggy
style, not 'normal'.
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