Then I looked again and I couldn't see them. I decided to use the mens room and to do this I had to cross over the dance floor to enter. As I got near the door I found my wife in Dan's arms. They were kissing and he had one hand on her tits. He had slipped his hand inside her dress and was rubbing one of her nipples and it also appeared that he had his tongue deep inside my wife's mouth. I went back to the table. I had the hardest cock from watching my wife being handled by a blackman. I just can't explain it.Once they returned from the dance floor, I suggested that I go next door and get us a room and it would give me time to set up the video camera. Of course, Dan thought that was a good idea. As I left the Bar, I turned back to see him holding my wife's hand and looking in her eyes. I got the room and setup my video camera, it must have been 2 hours before they arrived. When I opened the door, my wife's makup was smeared and her hair was messed. I had known something was going on. She imagined the water running over Melinda's smooth, supple body and shivered, her pussy aching to be satisfied again.Yes, it was going to get harder every time. Each time it would be more difficult to keep the conflict going and maintain some part of herself that wanted to escape this fate. But she had no idea how to escape, or if anyone could help her escape.I'm so sorry, Melinda, she thought. As she began fingering herself, before it was lost to the pleasure of the moment, she had one last lucid thought: who was truly the mistress, and who was truly the slave?Or was she simply fooling herself? The answer was none of the above. They were both slaves now.Linda felt anxious the entire morning. Part of it was anxiety over what she knew was going to happen. Part of it was anxiety over the possibility of it not happening.She had hoped that a night's sleep would rid her of the desires that Richie had somehow planted in her head. Instead, it made them worse. She woke up with the sheets.
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