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Nearly record-setting. Still, I left the comforts of my air-conditioned office every day, promptly at 3pm, to streak straight home. Straight home to m... writing work, right? No, at this point, I couldn’t even fool myself. I was going home, hoping for a visit from Cathy. Hoping for an innocent glimpse of her swelling motherhood: a glimpse that would, once again, etched in my mind’s eye, provide fuel for my soiling my bedsheets before I drifted off to sleep. Now there’s a particular afternoon. A bystander might not realize who was married to whom, who was fucking whom. Husband Karl had fucked Christine, the prostitute, right before my face, with me lying 69 on my carpet, her straddling me, me grabbing as much of her cunt-lips as I could reach. She sucked the same for me. The plain term sixty-nine doesn’t do our partnership justice. Dimitri rose first and went to the patio door. He had been the first to climax in round one, so he was most back to normal. Neither husband nor I. Those same two guys were still stroking but up enough the trail you could not see them well. As I fucked her good she seemed to push back more so I stopped pumping and let her push back n forth onto my cock. The view was hot. At this point that old guy was now about 10 feet away with another two guys slightly to his side. Also older these three men were all stroking their cocks and in the woods which made it hard to see. My wife did not notice them through the excitement because she seemed. ”Mamie nodded and regarded her with a grave smile. “Oh yes. We have all been under the men’s lashes and have learned how to heal.” Beth’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh yes,” Mamie said again. “We all know how the kisses of the whip can make the strokes of the cock into a spiritual experience for a woman.” They all laughed sympathetically. Beth, despite her fears, managed a smile.Her return under the overhead tree limb and attachment to the hoist was unsteady, her feet sometimes failing her, but.
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