By now she knew every inch of the four walls surrounding her where the paint had peeled off, where there was a scribble, where a screw had been hammer...d in. It was not exactly boredom but rather a strange numbness that occupied her. For the last one hour she had fought against it but slowly and slowly it was overcoming her. Why was she here? What did she expect from this place? She knew not. Only this much she knew whenever she thought of this place she felt paralyzed. Something was drawing her. Better as they say: Be safe, not sorry.It turned out that I was the one who needed help. I had no idea how the hanging boxes were assembled and I didn't see any directions either. Well, like I have mentioned several times, I'm a guy. We like to fix things. We don't have to ask directions and lastly, we don't need or even follow directions ... most of the time.So there I was with one of the boxes half unfolded and holding a metal Giz Wiz that looked like it was the thing you hung the hangers on. "Let her have it”. Linda was having trouble focusing, and she herself swayed back and forth in a state of pleasure. Her legs were clamped firmly together, and I suspected she was trying to get any kind of friction she could under that white dress. Linda grasped the paddle, stared at it - brought it back about a foot, and let go. Thud. The paddle landed dully on Jennifer's behind. She responded with a slight moan, and jerking of the hips. "No, No, No - all wrong. Give it here", I asked. Linda. It was time to go in search of my wife.Though it took a few minutes, I eventually found her. To my surprise, she was currently engaged with the bright pink painted pussy I'd been fingering earlier, the two of them happily engaged there on the bed, going down on one another. I squeezed in between them and another couple, with a woman sitting on some guys cock, another near her as she sucked on what almost looked like a candy-cane cock, just managing to speak loud enough into my wife's ear so she.
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