After church, I'm going to invite you to lunch with my cheating whore of a wife and you'll attend with my girl. My wife will be exposed, but I will explain to her what I want, you two can go where ever the fuck you want while I have my Bongi. You'll make sure she not only wears her uniform (black mini skirt and white shirt) but you'll make her wear a size that doesn't fit her glorious body, but will have above the knee length socks on hooker stilettos. Got it? The bastard was defeated, Sunday it is then.
My wife was very suspicious of my invitation to the priest for Sunday after service lunch, but was excited to have her lover afterwards without a clue of the plan. She didn't attend church that Sunday, but was making sure she looked her slutty self. I picked out her outfit, white lingerie, on a black mini skirt and a see through white blouse. What will he think of me she asked me? My slut wife, let's tease him. Ha Ha I thought.
They had arrived, all my staff was excused for the day. My wife welcomed them in and seemed jealous seeing this young delicious black supermodel dressed like sex on heels. She knew of her husband's fetish for black school girl fantasy from his pathetic porn history. What a perv she thought, but now that there's one here by surprise she was worried and jealous as she wanted all the attention. Her husband practically groped the poor child as he welcomed them, that hug was way too long, with grinding and humping as he spun her around and squeezed her slim waist demanding I take a picture with him. What's he doing, he's pulling her into his crotch, which I'm sure wasn't sleeping. The priest just stood there while his "baby" was hugged with lingering arms to her vest wearing too small white shirt.
The wife thought what the hell is going on here. She's definitely jealous now. I'll show him later when I get my daddy's dick in me she sympathised to herself. Pathetic pervert, she thought with her jealous raged eyes.
I was in cloud nine, I felt up this little girl in my paws. Telling her how beautiful she was and all the men, not boys, would love to be with her. She was nervous, but respectful as her father told her to treat me like a her dad for the day, and obey and play along. But she was uncomfortable with the consistent touching, grinding and humping as memories of her uncle flooded back. But she had to act grateful for her father and her new daddy for a special lunch for her. She was the menu. The fat farmer had popped a Viagra pill in the morning and exposed a raging hardon that this poor black girl felt up.
To be continued
