Catherine had gotten him... sometime. She frowned. A present? Something twitched in her mind when she tried to remember. There was a vague impression of a cat, but she'd never had one. She was allergic to cats. It wasn't important, though.At six o'clock she was trying to decide what to have for dinner. Pizza delivery was winning out over leftover macaroni and cheese when the phone rang."Hello?" The cat wants to get out." It was a man's voice, one she didn't recognize. "Can you let her out?"Everything felt suddenly distant, except for the phone in her hands and the stranger's voice. "I can let her out," Catherine heard herself say. The conscious part of her mind seemed to be falling away."Let the cat out," said the voice. "Catherine is packing her bags for a vacation at six-thirty and the cat needs to get out." Six-thirty", Catherine repeated. She hung up, then went into the kitchen. Inside one cabinet were two large plastic dishes, items she didn't usually notice. Each was red, with. ”“We agreed that you couldn’t touch me,” Meghan said. I didn't remember our agreement being that exactly, but I wasn't about to argue the toss.“What’s happening?” John’s voice said from the phone. “Talk to me darling, tell me what’s going on!”“Are you enjoying that?” Meghan asked as the head of my stiff cock poked up from her soft tit flesh.It was a redundant question. “Fuck, yeah!” I grunted. “Oh fuck, that’s good!”“Meghan?” John said. “Martin? Please talk to me!”His wife got to her feet. “Stand up!” she said, beckoning me.I got to my feet. In a flash Meghan was holding my cock in one hand while pulling on her knickers with the other. “You really are something!” I exclaimed. She was rubbing my thick head in her oily slit, squeezing the shaft with considerable force.“Meghan?” John’s voice sounded desperate over the phone. “Martin? Speak to me! Please tell me what’s going on!”“I’m cumming!” I grunted, feeling absurdly like a porn floozy. I was ashamed of not being able to hold out.
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