. Friday night is fucking, sorry ‘loving,’ night wifey... Not here wifey. Christ Yvonne was hot and now so was I. Forbidden fruit and the Widow ...lashed across my brain for about - well not long anyway. It was replaced by pure lust. Love? Forget it! This was Lust with a capital L. Yvonne took me in her mouth as we sank to the carpet oblivious to the world, she scooted round and presented me with the most beautiful sight. One open, pink, wet, ready pussy.You couldn’t call it a cunt it was. You okay? he writes to her lengthy pause.It's not like him to ask. This is no inquiry of your well-being, mocks experience. He's wondering if he can still count on you once the better offer expires. Today, for the first time in their dysfunctional dance, after thirty months of fucking a lie on a lie's terms, she's exhausted beyond caring to keep up disappearances. An easy truth will do, to start.I can't type, I'm shaking so hard.He's assuming the lustful context of twenty-four hours ago. The. My chubby ass cheeks swallowed the back of the thong. I felt great wearing the thong, and found a matching bra on the bed. It fitted perfectly around my chest, which was a little fatty, but I still had a flat stomach. The bra was a few sizes too big for my 'boobs' of course, but it felt amazing to caress it and imagine what it would be like if my chest could fill it out completely. I then pulled on the dress. It wrapped tightly around my slender body, like a perfect glove. I marvelled at myself. Nevertheless, nobody came. I tried it again, by knocking a little harder this time, but even then nobody came checking at the backside.I was getting afraid again, maybe they weren't home, and they just had let that light upstairs burning to make it look as if somebody was home. Or, maybe they were already upstairs and couldn't hear me. I hoped that it was this last option.Well, the only thing I could do, was walking around the house and see if I could find a doorbell at the front. That sure.