When we got there, Tammy’s car was in the driveway. There was also an old beat up pickup truck that was loaded up with furniture, a television and other things. There were two guys carrying boxes to the truck. They were both very big dudes, going six foot five inches or taller and weighing probably 300 pounds or more.Greg and I jumped off the bikes and I hollered, “Hey, have you guys seen Tammy?”I was trying to act as nonchalant as possible.The biggest one answered, “Nah, she’s at work. We’re just helping her move some of her stuff.”Greg said, “That’s funny, Bubba, what’s her car still doing in the driveway? You don’t mind if we go in and check on her, do ya?”He turned nasty. “It’s Bart and you’re not going in there!”I instantly felt the evil in Bart’s soul and had a flash vision of an unconscious, tied up, naked Tammy. I stared at Bubba until our eyes locked.“What did you do to her? TELL ME DAMN YOU.”“I didn’t do...” then his voice went monotone, “ ... we beat her and fucked her. I caressed my stiff nipples through my sports bra, my clit pulsing in my shorts. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I was a married woman with a husband at home.It felt so good.Celi breathed harder. Suddenly she bit her lip. Her body shook as she dropped the phone on the linoleum floor and fingered that pussy like she was mining for gold. Her broad backside undulated as her orgasm rose from her painted toes to her full lips.Fingers pinching my nips, I crossed my right thigh over my left, clamping my clit, inducing my own pleasure, soft waves flowing through my mound.We sucked air into our lungs, looking at each other recover, my shorts conspicuously soaked, Celi’s outfit dangling from her sumptuous contours like torn, yellow ribbons.A knock on the door snapped me back to reality.“Coming!” I answered honestly.Celi caressed her pink clit. “Thank you,” she mouthed to me silently.I nodded, unlocked the door, and sidled out, closing it behind me.“Hey,” Rhonda smiled at me. I avoided her.
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