I still love you, Mrs. Trouble

I was 26. I think she was 22. Worked at the same place. Both of us were married. I flirted with her and finally scored. She loved to sück a dïck and she’d füćk all day.
I used to call her bïtch and whóre, but always affectionately and she never minded...always smiled.
I loved everything about her. Her naturally rubbery tïts were perfectly shaped with the smoothest nïpplës I ever süčked. She also had the sweetest and prettiest ašš and she’d never had a dïćk in her pööper before.
I asked her to bring some Vaseline one day and she did. I got her ready and as I was pushing my cöćk in, she tensed up and said, “oh, aah, ooh, oh, ooh, aah, oh, oh!”.
I stopped and asked if it hurt. In a raspy voice she slowly said, “nooo ittt feeels gooood I liiike itttt”.
I hit that bütt hard and she wanted me to cüm in it. She was the best piece of áśś I ever had and we had an affair for four years.
I still love you, Mrs. Trouble.

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