Hi there. Back by popular demand, I bring you Liam, Vanessa, and Isla Shephard. The events detailed in this story occur around five years after the events in Two Daughters culminated. Isla has given birth to our daughter, Aurora, who is two years old. Isla and I are trying to have another child. With my wives both working, I play house-dad and look after Aurora.

Ness and Isla do their best to line up their shifts and days off so they can be at home together. Unfortunately, as is the lot for shift-working nurses, it doesn’t happen as often as they’d prefer.

We still make use of the ‘yearly day passes’ described in Two Daughters, and Ness is still the one who takes a pass most often. Isla has used one. It was after the birth of our first child together. She’d developed a massive crush on her gynaecologist—Doctor Stephen Cook, an older, distinguished-looking man in his mid-fifties. His wife passed away from cancer during Isla’s pregnancy, and Stephen struggled to cope. After their one night of passion, Stephen became a family friend and is now the gynae of choice for our extended family, including our son’s wives/girlfriends.

Gary and Aaron readily accepted Isla as part of their parents’ marriage, with Aaron often teasing Isla, who is younger than him, by calling her ‘Mum’. Aaron and Meral already had one child with another on the way. They were renting a home in Lota, where rent is relatively cheap. Gary still lives with us while Tanya attends uni. Tanya regularly visits and stays more nights in our place than at the Nathan University residences.

Let’s see what the three of us got up to, shall we?

I woke up with Ellen’s muscular ass pushed against my piss-fattened cock. This was the annual week when Jim and I swapped wives, and I had Ellen with me at home. Ness, Isla, and Aurora were up in Rockhampton with Jim. This was the first time Ness had returned to Rockhampton since Jason’s eighteenth birthday, where they’d spent twenty-four hours making raunchy love to one another. Like his older brother, Larry, Jason wanted Ness to be his first, so we made the trip up. Fortunately, we could afford to fly that time, so there were no excruciating repeats of the Spice Girls and Achy Breaky Heart. I thought it was somewhat ironic that Ness and I had relieved all of Jim and Ellen’s children of their virginities.

Holding Ellen’s shapely hip, I slid my throbbing cock along her wet slit, debating whether to cum in her to relieve my hard-on so I could piss or whether to get out and whizz so I could return and take my time fucking her. Ellen was still somewhat hung up by her Judeo-Christian upbringing, so, evilly, I slid my cock into her wet cunt long enough to ensure it was well-lubricated. Then, slowly and remorselessly, I drilled it into her tight ass.

“Tssssssssssssssss,” Ellen hissed sibilantly, trying to remain quiet because Garry and Tanya were home. To add to her pleasure/pain discomfort, I forced my hand under Ellen’s upper arm and forcefully tweaked her conical nipple. Using virtually the only swear word she ever uttered, Ellen quietly spat, “Asshole.” Then she groaned and orgasmed on my thrusting cock.

Ellen tried to deny it, but the truth was that pain excited her. The primary reason she needed this week more than my wives, Jim, or me was that Jim couldn’t make himself hurt her to the levels Ellen needed. I could. Although Ellen is a masochist, I’m not a true sadist. I don’t get pleasure from inflicting pain. Instead, my pleasure comes from pleasuring others. In Ellen’s case, that meant using whips, paddles, and crops on her body to the point where they almost drew blood. Ellen would willingly bleed for me, but my squeamishness with blood meant I’d never go that far. However, I did send her home with many bruises across most of the parts of her body that her clothes hid. All of the above is to explain that, in the scheme of things and how much Ellen loved pain, having my cock stretch her rarely used ass barely rated.

Ellen’s climax meant I could relax and cum, too. Which was just as well because if it had taken too much longer, I would have either needed to piss in her colon or pull out and run to the en suite.

I eased my cock out of Ellen’s tight ass and entered the en suite. Ellen followed me in and, ignoring where it had just come from, held my cock for me as I pissed. From previous times she’d done this, I knew Ellen was working up the courage to ask me to wee on her. Her fascination with pushing her submissive boundaries and thumbing her nose at her religious upbringing meant being degraded was next.

However, blood, urine, scat, and children were hard boundaries for me, so I’d refuse even if she asked. It is one thing to demean someone who finds it sexually exciting to be subjected to it and another thing to degrade someone—the former I used with Ness and Isla regularly. The latter was something I never did.

We shared a shower, lovingly washing each other, and then it was time for breakfast.

“Hey, Mum. Hey, Daddy Liam,” Tanya said happily, kissing my and her mother’s cheeks.

Jim’s dominance over their mother and his bringing her almost psychotic behaviour under control had repaired the relationships between Ellen and her children. They no longer feared her and interacted with her healthily.

“Hey ya, Tan-Tan Baby,” I replied, giving her a swift hug and returning her cheek kiss. Tanya and Gary were engaged, although they wouldn’t marry until after Tanya had completed her Master’s in Business Analytics.

Ellen hugged her eldest daughter almost reverently. Currently, they only see each other about twice a year. The last time was Christmas, which was five months ago. I accepted the plate of bacon and eggs Tanya had made and sat at the kitchen table. Mother and daughter talked for a bit longer, and then Tanya left for uni. Bringing her protein shake and a cup of coffee, Ellen joined me at the table. She sipped her shake and sighed morosely. “I have so much to make up for with my kids,” she stated. “I was such a bitch to everyone for so long. I guess I’m lucky that all my kids except Larry are talking to me now.”

“Give him time,” I reassured her. “He’ll come around. I hear his wife is pregnant with your second grandchild?”

“She is,” Ellen gushed. “Caroline is such a sweet thing and good for Larry.”

“Do you get along with her?” I asked diplomatically.

“Yes,” Ellen grinned, knowing what I’d hinted at. “She came into Larry’s life after Jim lit up my ass, and I stopped being a bitch.”

“Then Caroline will bring him back to you. Just be patient and available when he wants to talk. You’ll see that I’m right.”

“I hope so,” Elle said glumly. Then, changing the subject, she asked, “Are you going for a run today?”

“Yes, as soon as breakfast settles,” I replied.

“Good,” Ellen said, rubbing her hands together. “I’ll use your gym and get some weights done. I’ll need to change.”

“We’re home alone,” I pointed out. A little smile played over Ellen’s lips, and she raised an eyebrow as if to say, ‘And?’. “You don’t need to change, just get naked.” Ellen mouthed, “Oh.” I continued, “You will unshutter the blinds and do your exercises naked. If the mailman comes, you will remain in the weights room naked and do something to attract his attention. When he sees you, you will continue working out for as long as he wants to look.”

“Jim will kill me when he finds out,” Ellen breathed. But her diamond-tipped, conical nipples showed she liked the idea of being observed.

“So don’t tell him,” I said dismissively. “We four, when we set this up, promised there’d be no questions about what we did with the other’s spouses. Therefore, you do not need to inform him what you’ve done for the week you’re my wife.”

“What if Jim is making Nessa do something similar?” Ellen queried.

“Ness will blow and/or fuck someone if Jim asks her to,” I replied.

“And you’re okay with that?”

“His wife, his rules for the week,” I explained.

“Do you make Nessa fuck others?” Elle queried. “Do you make Isla?”

“No,” I said emphatically. “That’s something I’d never do, although my wives would do it for me if I asked or told them to.”

“Yet you’re telling me to,” Ellen pointed out.

“Did I?” I queried.

“Umm, well ... umm ... no. You’re telling me to flash him. Nothing more.”

“Precisely, my pain-loving, cum slut. Now, will you do as I order, or do I need to punish you?”

“Spanking, whipping, or caning me is hardly punishment, Liam,” Ellen giggled.

“Punishment for disobedient wenches would be being placed into chastity and then teased relentlessly but without relief until it was time for her to fly home,” I said evenly. “Of course, I’d forget to unlock the device before I put you on the plane. Wait, that’s Friday night, isn’t it? That means I won’t be able to post Jim the key until Monday morning. It should arrive by next Wednesday.”

“You wouldn’t!” Ellen exclaimed. I remained stoic with my arms crossed across my chest. “You would!” Ellen gasped. She removed her clothes and knelt at my feet. “This girl is sorry she challenged you, Sir,” Ellen said and then kissed my feet.

Patting her hair, I said, “Much better, Ellen. When I’ve returned from my run, I’ll take you to the playroom.”

Ellen shivered. Ness and Isla had told her over the phone about how we’d added a room over our garage. Ness’ dad is going downhill quickly, and when he passes, we’ll repurpose the room to its original intent—a granny flat for her mum. The room was soundproofed and contained several Bdsm items Ness and Isla had chosen, including a St Andrew’s Bdsm slave cross.

I put my running shoes on and headed out the door. Today was my fifteen-kilometre day. I’d knock it out in less than an hour, giving me time to consider the offer I’d received from The Morningside Panthers. After my successful debut season for them, and despite being almost forty, I returned to play as captain/coach the following year.

We had another disappointing year where, although we made the finals, we dropped out after the first round, having barely fired a shot. I’d gone to the board and requested trades for several players I felt weren’t aiming up. I listed several retiring Victorian players who I thought would be prepared to play an extra season of the game they loved in sunny Queensland. Although we didn’t get everyone I wanted, we recruited enough of them to win the flag in my third season.

At the end of the season, I asked Brad Gates, a four-time all-Australian, and one of those I’d brought up from Victoria, if he’d stay on for another season as captain/coach. Then, when Brad agreed, I immediately retired again. I would have turned forty-one during the following season, and my knees had begun to bother me. I had a young wife and a baby on the way, and I sure as heck didn’t want to be a cripple, unable to play with my kids, so I retired before I sustained an injury that would cause that to happen.

The club wanted me to stay as coach, but I pointed out they couldn’t afford to pay my salary and the money required to keep Brad on board for another year. They could take half of the money they planned to spend on me as head coach and add it to Brad’s contract. That way, they’d save money and keep a key component of their flag-winning team. Using my profile and the profiles of the stars we’d recruited, we’d almost tripled The Panther’s sponsorship, but it was still less than a quarter of the budget that even a VFL team in Melbourne could garner. However, The Panther’s finances were in the best shape they’d been for years.

Which brought me to my dilemma. John Coates, the current club manager, came from a background similar to mine. John was recruited from South Australia in the seventies and brought to The Panthers as their captain/coach. He stayed on as coach for several years after retiring from playing and later became the club’s manager. The board had recently offered me John’s position. Although Liam Aldis had encouraged John to talk to me, if John hadn’t brought me in, then I would never have played for The Panthers.

It was John who figured out how to get around the public liability insurance problem. He looked up the code’s articles and realised that if I was a registered, contracted player, I was indemnified against injury. The amount of the contract didn’t matter. What did was that it was for a cash amount, and the contract was registered with the QAFL. I signed a one-dollar plus the standard winning bonus of $250.00 per game playing contract. Which ensured if I was injured or even killed playing, my expenses were covered.

I had to decide if I would take the job. My decision was made harder because I didn’t know if John was aware of the offer. Technically, John was the club manager and should have been the one making the offer. However, the offer had come from the board and not from the club manager, and I didn’t know if John was aware they’d made the offer.

There were things to consider. I didn’t need the money. Heck. Neither Ness nor Isla needed to work if they didn’t want to. I wondered if that was partly why they’d made the offer. If I would play for them for a dollar, how much would I ask for to manage their club? They’d have had to have had their heads stuck up their asses for the last ten years not to know I was pretty wealthy. Although my one indulgence remained my Maserati, my penis extension, as Ness called it, so I wasn’t gauche with my money.

The money wasn’t a consideration, but boredom was. I’d spoken to some of the board members, and they intimated that I could bring my baby to work with me if I took the offer. Which meant I’d have pretty much my first full-time job since driving a cab before my career took off. But did I want one? I knew finance and was sure I could keep the club financially secure, maybe even better off if I were allowed to invest some of their money using my strategies. But was I willing to take on that kind of responsibility?

I turned into my street and decreased my pace until I was walking. Doing that allowed my body to cool down, and by the time I got to my front door, my pulse rate was barely above my typical thirty-five beats per minute. I spent another ten minutes stretching before the weights room’s window, admiring Ellen’s naked, staunchly muscular body as she lifted weights even Ness couldn’t hope to achieve. She smiled at me for watching her but didn’t stop.

When I walked inside, I realised I’d decided what to do. Sometime this afternoon, I’d phone John and ask if he was aware the board had offered me his job. If he wasn’t, then I had no desire to work for an organisation that was prepared to stab a thirty-plus-years loyal servant in the back. How long before they did the same to me? Then, I’d phone Liam Aldiss and those I’d encouraged to move from Victoria and tell them of my concerns.

Stripping my clothes off and dumping them in the washer as I passed, I pushed open the weights room door, walked in, picked Ellen up and threw her over my shoulder. After smacking her firm ass for trying to wriggle off, I carried her across the driveway and into the garage. On the way to our new playroom, I stuffed two fingers into Ellen’s tight cunt. As I suspected, her pussy was a furnace of heat and wetness.

“Did the postie come when you were lifting?” I queried.

“Yes,” Ellen admitted.

“How long did he watch for?”

“Almost fifteen minutes,” Ellen answered. I could hear her blush in her voice even though she was facedown over my shoulder.

“You lay on the bench with your legs spread, showing your whore cunt to the postie, didn’t you, Ellen?”

“Yes,” Ellen said defiantly. “You told me to.”

“Did I?” I asked.

“You told me to exercise naked and attract his attention if he stopped at your mailbox.”

“And where in that order does it say ‘lie on your back on the weights bench and show your slut cunt to the postie’?”

“It doesn’t,” Ellen admitted awkwardly. Her blush was so extreme that I could feel the heat from her face, which was near my muscular ass.

“Then, why did you do it?”

“Because I was horny thinking about what you were going to do to me when you came back from your run, and I wanted the mailman to be horny, too.”

“Oh, how far the once high and mighty Christian warrior woman has fallen,” I mocked as I tied Ellen’s wrists and ankles to the slave cross. When I had her securely bound, I used the crank to stretch her body as far as possible. Doing this lifted Ellen off the ground until her weight was only suspended by leather bands around her wrists and ankles. I checked to ensure I hadn’t cut off the blood flow to those four body parts. Happy that Ellen was secure and in no danger, I used another crank to push out the pad her pudenda rested on. That made Ellen’s ass protrude delightfully and gave me a sexy target for my various floggers.

Ellen giggled guiltily, but then she wriggled her ass, daring me to do my worst. I looked at the floggers displayed on the wall near the cross, considering my options. Primarily, in my thoughts, was what Ellen needed. I could use the many-tailed, soft-suede flogger. It was possibly the item I was most familiar with and skilled with. Depending on what you wanted to do, it was possible to stand close and strike your victim with the tails in a solid bunch, which made a solid, heavy hit when delivered.

That technique was ideally suited for inexperienced players or those like Isla, who had a low pain tolerance. However, for a pain slut like Ellen, it would do little to stir their enthusiasm. Another method was to stand further back and flick the wrist so the tails splayed widely apart. That brought the lengths of the tails slashing across your target. The pain from that strike was significantly increased compared to the solid strike.

The above was ideal as a starting point for experienced pain receivers like my first wife. It was the endpoint for Isla. The pain from that strike delivered across Isla’s ass or on that nexus point above her tailbone would crash her into an enormous orgasm, but any further pain would only be just that—pain.

For a confirmed pain slut like Ellen, I could ramp the pain up further by moving another step away from her tied body. Then, by using the same wrist flick combined with a downward strike with my arm, I could bring the flogger’s individual suede tail tips slashing across her body. With the separate tips striking individually across her skin, the pain would be spread and severe, which Ellen enjoyed.

The risk was controlling the force of the hit. With only the flogger’s tips striking skin, it was all too easy to split the skin and make Ellen bleed. That was something Ellen would enjoy, but if I sent her home with scabs across her ass and back, Jim would be rightfully pissed at me and probably end our agreement to swap wives annually. This year was only the third time we’d swapped. The first was the weekend described in Two Daughters.

I chose a carbon rod-reinforced leather flogger instead. This item was another that could be dangerous in inexperienced hands. The carbon rod caused the flogger to bend away as you brought it down and then snap forward as the flex uncoiled. Even a softly delivered strike with your wrist only resulted in a welt that would turn black almost immediately. The pain is severe, but with the flogger’s broad strap, only a clumsy user would draw blood.

Having chosen my instrument, I now needed to ensure Ellen’s mind was in the right frame of mind for our ensuing session to ensure she had her needs met. I spoke firmly, letting my voice deepen and become more resonant. “Ellen Patricia Monie, what is my stance on bratty disobedience?”

“You dislike it, Sir,” Ellen replied obediently.

“My stance on brattishness is one of dislike?” I asked disparagingly.

“I misspoke, Sir,” Ellen quickly amended. “You detest SAMs (Smart Assed Masochists) with a passion.”

Tapping her muscular ass, I said, “Yet, despite knowing my distaste, you continue to act brattily. Do you agree that correction is owed and deserved?”

“Yes, Sir,” Ellen panted. Her arousal poured down her inner thighs liberally.

“Ten with this instrument,” I informed her, holding the flogger before her eyes. “Then, I shall use my riding crop to stripe you from your shoulders to your ass cheeks. I’d go lower, but I do enjoy seeing your muscular ass and upper thighs in short miniskirts, so down to your buttocks will suffice. You will count and thank me for each strike.”

To tease her, I barely touched Ellen’s ass with the first strike. With a perplexed-sounding tone, she said, “One, thank you, Sir.”

“Was that a strike worthy of counting and thanking me for?” I rhetorically asked. We both knew it wasn’t. Ellen shook her head, and as soon as she stopped moving, I brought the flogger down across her ass cheeks firmly. A dark red, swiftly turning black, welt appeared across the centre of Ellen’s buttocks.

“One, thank you, Sir,” Ellen moaned as the heat of her arousal emanated like a campfire from her wet cunt. I aimed a little higher and swung the flogger again. An almost identical welt to the first lifted across Ellen’s taut buns. “Oh, Gawd,” Ellen panted as she nearly climaxed. “Two, thank you, Sir,” she added when she regained control. I added two more stripes in quick succession before stuffing two fingers into Ellen’s soaking vulva and thumbing her clit.

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!” Ellen groaned as she climaxed on my fingers. After several post-orgasm shudders, Ellen finally said, “Three and four, thank you, Sir.”

I shifted so I could access Ellen’s flushed-open pussy better. Then, inwardly wincing because I suspected how much this would hurt, I lashed the flogger down so it hit directly between Ellen’s ass cheeks. The carbon rod parted her buttocks effortlessly and smashed into her anus. The flex of the carbon allowed it to bend along her perineum, and its tip slapped Ellen’s soaking, gaping vulva.

Biting her teeth together, Ellen went stiff as her body seized with a rigour. She hissed, “Ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss!!!!” as her body accepted the pain deep into her soul. She shuddered as her mind translated the intense pain into extreme pleasure. I waited until I saw her shiver and tremble, and then I repeated the stroke. Ellen’s body locked into a rictus, with every muscle in her staunch body straining to express her pleasure. Her breath hitched before she moaned, “Oh, my Lawd, Yesssssssssssssss!!!!!!!!” as a mind-shattering orgasm blasted her from the mortal realm.

When her mind returned to her ravaged body, she tilted her head to smile at me. “Five and six,” thank you, Sir.”

I knew Ellen would willingly accept her remaining four strikes and refuse to acknowledge them unless I struck her hard enough to raise welts. However, I also knew Ellen’s mind could not take punishment as severe as the six previous strikes again during this session and turn it into pleasure. The pain would give her some enjoyment, but it would be pain for pain’s sake and not for pleasure.

“I know you’re willing, my little slut,” I told her. “But that’s enough heavy punishment for today.” Ellen looked disappointed until I growled. “However, you still owe me four corrections, and I will collect those before sending you home Monday morning.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Ellen agreed as she fascinatedly watched me loosen the ratchet holding her stretched and unbuckled her restraints.

When Ellen was free, I turned her so she faced out and re-tied her to the frame. Taking two clamps from a drawer close to the frame, I attached them to Ellen’s tiny, conical nipples, added some weights, and set them swinging. Her mouth formed an ‘O’ when I attached the clamps, but she moaned her appreciation when I added the weights. Next, I moved a microphone stand holding a ‘magic wand’ vibrator between Ellen’s bound legs and guided it against her clitoris. I turned it on and set the vibrations to medium, with the head oscillating in small circles around her nubbin.

I checked Ellen’s restraints before tugging on the weights, further stretching her nipples and causing her to hiss with pain. Which, of course, only increased the amount of her nectar flowing down her inner thighs. Then, I removed one of my riding crops from the flogger wall and showed it to her. Her eyes followed it fascinatedly, dreading but longing for its bite on her white, almost translucent skin.

I hovered it before her eyes for several seconds before whipping it back and cracking it onto her left nipple. The strike by itself hurt, but it also made the weight attached to the clamp jump and bounce, which added to her discomfort and pleasure. I waited for Ellen’s eyes to open and follow the crop again before I repeated the strike on her right nipple, with similar results. Then, rolling my wrist left and right, I alternated vicious whacks across my best friend’s wife’s tits. Where I hit wasn’t important. It was the frequency and the intensity that drove Ellen unerringly to another crest, which she reached and leapt off with another piercing scream of satisfaction.

I removed the wand from Ellen’s pussy, and used the ratchet to tighten her binds until they lifted her off the floor. Next, I used the crank to force the pudenda pad as far out as it would go, lewdly displaying Ellen’s gaped and soaking cunt. I moved between her lasciviously spread legs and shoved my rampant 7-inch cock into her sweltering pussy. Simultaneously, I unclamped Ellen’s nipples and gripped them between my thumbs and fists before pulling and twisting them mercilessly.

Ellen went off like a firecracker on Guy Fawkes’ night. Her head tilted back as she screamed so loudly that I wondered if even the room’s soundproofing would stop the neighbour’s hearing. I fucked her remorselessly through three more climaxes before backing out of her soaking cunt. She hung limp on the restraints, barely conscious, but her eyes flew open when she felt me kneeling before her pornographically displayed pussy.

“No!” She whispered fearfully. However, her ass clenched, and her hips pushed forward, indicating she wanted as much as she feared what I was about to do.

“Do I hear a safeword?” I asked archly, knowing Ellen was too proud of her ability to turn pain into orgasmic pleasure to use one.

She shook her head and mumbled, “No,” despite her fear.

As soon as Ellen made the ‘N’ sound of ‘no’, I brought the crop whistling down onto her clitoris. Without waiting for her scream, I cropped her entrance twice before striking her clit again.

Ellen had lost her words as the pain morphed into intense pleasure that was too much for her overwhelmed mind to comprehend. Another crop on her clitoris, and Ellen squirted for the first time in her life, coating my face, neck and upper chest with her womanly ejaculate. Two more squirts hit my face before Ellen passed out.

Smiling happily, proud of my ability to bring my wife’s best friend (other than Isla, of course) to two mind-blanking orgasms, I supported Ellen’s weight as I carefully lowered her feet to the ground and undid her restraints. Then, effortlessly picking her up, I carried her back to bed. Ellen came to as I lowered her onto the bed. She smiled happily as I moved between her parted thighs and glided into her tight, soaking pussy.

“You know just what I need, Liam,” she crooned as her arms and legs wrapped tightly around me.

I’d worked out from conversations between Ness and Ellen that I’d overheard that Jim was about an inch longer than me but not as thick. However, Ellen certainly wasn’t complaining as I thrust into her willing cunt. Although it was my turn to get something from our session, I could tell that Ellen was close to cresting again, so I reached behind her and touched her bruised anus. That slight pain launched Ellen into her orgasm and allowed me to fill her pussy with my flooding sperm.

After we’d finished, I rolled off her onto my back, and much as Isla and Ness like to do, Ellen climbed onto my chest, rested her head over my heart, and went to sleep. Jim is shorter than his wife, so she couldn’t lie on him like she was with me. Although Ellen is heavier than either Ness or Isla, it wasn’t unpleasant to have the muscular, Germanic-looking woman lying on me, and I quickly followed her into sleep.

I woke up with Ellen riding me. Her hands were pressed against my chest as she waved her hips along my shaft, clenching my shaft tightly with her vagina on her way back and her pussy opening for me as she sunk down. Her nipples looked ravaged, painful, and perfect for some pain stimulation. I reached under her arms and scraped my fingertips over them.

“Asshole,” Ellen amusedly spat as she unexpectedly climaxed on my rigid tool. “This was supposed to be for you.”

I chuckled, moving my hands to her shoulders as I powered my hips up to meet her descending thrust. Our bodies slapped together in a delightful staccato rhythm as I released all restraints and concentrated on cumming inside Ellen. “I’m there!” I groaned as my nuts clamped against my shaft, and cum boiled from cock into Ellen’s welcoming pussy. My eyes momentarily closed as I imagined breeding Ellen and making her pregnant with my child. That electric thought reinforced my fading erection, and I rolled her over to fuck her missionary style.