She didn't move a muscle even when I told her the very much edited version of our affair. It was when I got to the episode of my father's picture, the...old picture she had given me so long ago, that her face changed, and she only asked, "Is Sophie your biological mother, the woman your father stole you from?"In a broken voice, I only answered, "Yes"She now understood my drama and tears, but for the wrong reasons; she thought I was ashamed, repentant, full of sin, and embarrassed with a sense of. Her eyes were closed and her head back as she continued her wild and wonderful masturbation in front of a helpless me. I wanted to break the glass, rush in and fuck her, but realized the futility of even trying. I wanted to grab my cock and enjoy the show, but knew that neighbors could see into the pool enclosure. I desperately wanted Diane right now. As if sensing my situation she raised her head and looked directly at me and smiled. Her hand movements had slowed and I knew she was about to. These wives loved their husbands, but they were let down by them.Either the husband had forgotten his wife's original beauty, the zest that had attracted him to her in the first place, or he suffered a loss of vigour, not being able to get it up. Or, there was a third type, those who had not forgotten her original beauty, only quite the opposite.These husbands, who couldn’t satisfy their wives, at least saw them in all their full glory. Their wives, for them, improved with age. They saw them as. I was breathing really heavily and felt hot. What was this all about? I carefully wiped my hands on the sheets and then fell asleep very quickly afterwards. The next morning I decided the best thing was to ask my best friend Lynne who might know about these things. As it was a school holidays I went across to Lynne that afternoon. Can I ask you a question? I felt embarrassed and Lynne grinned at me. What about? Have you ever looked at yourself between your legs? I whispered. Lynne put her.