?" "Yes," he says firmly. I suddenly imagine her on her knees, my husband with her hair in his fist, fucking her mouth with his big dick, slobber slop...ing onto her shirt. I step in close, feeling him pressing against my belly, his arousal firm and thick through the thin fabric of my dress. I put my hand on his hip as we move to the music, lean in and whisper in his ear, "Don't be fucking gentle." I can feel him grin next to me, "Baby, you have no idea." We dance, chat, relax, drink, and finally. He seemed to be moving fine up to then." Okay, dear, then cover him with your sweatshirt and find something to put under his feet." His feet?" Yes, his feet; elevating his feet will increase the blood supply to the brain. Did he hit his head when he fell?" I don't know. There no blood or anything," I felt his head carefully and felt what would later be bumps on his forehead just beginning to form. "There is swelling on his forehead and it's red but there are no cuts or anything. Mom, why won't. More

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