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Wedding Anniversary Gangbang


Copyright 2012 By JB Richards


Smashwords Edition


“Almost there,” Chase said. His hand was warm and firm on mine, and his voice held a quiver of excitement I hadn’t heard in a long time - not since the early days of our marriage, five years ago. The thought that something had my husband on edge got my heart a little excited, and as he pulled me down the hotel corridor by one hand, I started to get very nervous. We hadn’t gone to an elevator and up to a room, which had me chewing my lip in curiosity. Still on the first floor, we’d wandered down a side passage, but my husband had insisted on no questions before I received my wedding anniversary present.

I glanced around nervously. Chase was wearing sweat pants and a baggy t-shirt - attire that normally he’d never be caught dead in anywhere. In his free hand he clutched a small plastic bag from a local store, though I couldn’t quite see what was inside. Anemic yellow lights pulsed as he pulled me along, until we finally turned a corner and stopped. For a moment, I could only blink in complete and utter bafflement.

A bit down the side corridor, I could just make out a wooden set of double doors, with “Conference Room B” scrawled on a neat plaque above it. That, of course, wasn’t terribly odd. It was the two men standing on either side of the door that brought me up short. Unlike my husband, they were dressed to kill. Dark and well-tailored navy suits, black gloves, shoes that shined with impossible perfection. That alone would have drawn up my eyebrow in a question at Chase. Still not weird enough. No, it was the masks they wore that left me befuddled.

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