She effortlessly dragged Paul away from the window."Stop! You can't do this to me!!" Paul cried as he was helplessly towed to the kitchen."Sure looks like I'm doing it. Now sit here." She put his elbow down, welding the elbow to the tabletop. Unable to escape, Paul sat down heavily."Have some breakfast." She clunked down a bowl and filled it with cereal and milk. Paul reluctantly began to eat.Rosemary sat down and watched. "Did you like the bed?" Paul's face flushed beet red as he remembered the intimate experience. She chuckled at his reaction. "I thought you'd like it. And just think, you'll get to sleep in the very same bed again tonight! And tomorrow night! And every night from now on, for as long as it takes!" No, please, it's not fair..." Paul pleaded. But his body betrayed him and he felt his pussy getting moist and slippery as images of being sexually tortured by the bed flashed through his mind. Without thinking, he pressed his legs tightly together."It's either you or. He says any strain between them and Rose is more her doing than theirs. Typical Rose.Rose returned from her parents’ house to pick the kids up a few days later and I think she was relieved to find Randall was still alive. Not only that, he was also well-fed, happy and clean. It surprised her so much that she didn’t even gripe at me when she collected the kids. I helped her get all their possessions into the car, including the clothes I’d washed, folded and repacked for them. Not a word from her, good or bad, about any of that. The trouble started when the two little scamps stood by the car, waved and yelled, “Bye, Daddy!”Boom! Rose was off and screaming. Screaming at me for putting them up to it. Screaming at Randall because I was most assuredly not his daddy. Screaming at Ellie for corrupting her brother. I could take her screaming at me, but the kids were innocent in this. I hustled the kids back into the apartment and pulled Rose off to the side.“Stop it right now,” I barked at.
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