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My voicecame out quiet and reserved. "I'm not a queer" was all I said as I hungmy head."Well then, what are you?" she asked a little more calmly than...before."I don't know," I said, "I'm just not a queer." She looked at me for amoment, then sat on my bed. "Maybe we better talk about this," shesaid. I must say, she recovered a lot faster than I did, but then itwasn't her life that was ending.Cindy has always been good at talking to people and getting theinformation she wants. I remember that. A solid 8" at least. Any bigger might have been a problem, but I was sure I could handle 8."You see Mr. Snyder, I know my place, and it's right here". I grabbed his hand and placed it on the back of my head, "I just need a strong hand to keep me here". I barely finished the sentence before his hand was pressing his dick past the back of my throat. I felt a tear start to form at the corner of my eye and I thought, "I hope my eyeliner doesn't run". Then I put my hands back behind my back and. "Fuck that pussy. Give me that big black dick!" she moaned out with a confidence he's never heard from her. "Is this what you wanted? Me to act like a slut?" He looked at her seeing in her eyes how turned on she was right now. "He'll ya, is that what you want? A big black dick in this tight married pussy?" he answered feeling as though he couldn't control himself any longer. She gripped both sides of the chair and began lifting her ass up so the big dildo her husband was fucking her with could. (Something that he had stopped doing after he had caught me looking at stuff he had downloaded once.) I opened Internet Explorer, and bingo! The last thing they had looked up was some flight info for their trip, but before that: two ladies kissing with very little clothes on. Not the hottest thing I'd discovered, but as a bisexual girl, I approved. I stroked my now-exposed vagina with a finger. I was slightly wet, so I saved the vibrator until I was more into things. Clearly my dad had been on.
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