I pushed all the way into him. My hips nested nicely against his ass. I held his hips, withdrew and pushed again, then again and again. With each push...I felt his cum being squeezed out of my well-fucked ass. I felt his cum running down my thigh and remembered how it had gotten there. I thrust harder and faster, pushing into him as deep as I could. I could hear him cooing and gasping and watched his hands claw at the sheets. I was back in my utopia. My total existence consisted of his hot ass. She'd take them all,and well, it's just plain cheaper to keep her, as I like to say to myfriends when I'm very,very far from her.I've told my story to anyone who would listen...I dunno I guess I feelbetter after hearing myself detail my misery filled midlife crisis. Turnsout not long ago, that 'anyone' was the Devil. Oh I didn't know it atfirst, he was a younger guy in a sports jersey cheering the Sox rightnext to me. We shared some laughs, had some beers, and I told him my warstories. Battles. " I'm glad too," I replied. I tried not to perv out on the feel of her soft tits compressed against my bare chest, or the sight of water dripping down her face. There's just something about a soaking wet girl that revs my engine.The splash battle wound down and the others were headed for the beach. I let go of Mom and we followed.We spent most of that day doing the usual beach stuff. Sunning, reading, trying to ride the little waves, throwing a frisbee, taking walks. Mom played and had as much. "You just never wanted to come with us anyway," the wife barked, hauling the screaming toddler off, with a glance back to shout, "You two! Get over here!" The harried husband intercepted and scooped up one laughing child, rather efficiently I thought, and then the other, and trotted off after her. The next time I saw him, he was walking down the aisle loaded down with things the wife had hoped they could carry on. Bumping the heads and arms of plane passengers already seated and tripping over.