A soft, "ahh," escaped from between her lips. It was interesting how she no longer protested about what I had done to her. Her anger had turned to ple...sure. Anal sex is a favorite activity of ours, but here in the tub with my wife's hands tied together, it took on a new meaning. Francine was really starting to get into this bathtub bondage scenario. She undulated her hips wildly as her anal muscles tugged frantically at my shaft. I slid rhythmically in her asshole, as I grabbed her pendulous. You were never going to be the kid who went to college and went crazy.”“You don’t seem to have.”“Nah. Zappa was right about the ‘Catholic Girls’, though! They’re the biggest party animals in the school.”“Angie’s Catholic,” I said.“The exception that proves the rule. I’m sure you’ve heard the other stories.”I shook my head, “Actually, I haven’t. I don’t pay attention to gossip and our group doesn’t really gossip at all. And honestly, you know me well enough that I avoid parties and partiers like. No longer was she using the correct medical terms for people’s private parts and what they did with them. She realized it gave her an additional thrill to use forbidden words: cock, pussy, fuck, screw, even cunt, and she began to mentally relate them to what was going on in her imagination. And that imaginary sexual world included Derek screwing her with his apparently large male member to the most mind-bending orgasms possible. With her husband’s arrival imminent, Emma didn’t dare treat. “It turns me on knowing that I’m exposed, vulnerable; that you’re both staring at me. It’s making me wet.”“Hmm, good answer.” smiled Michelle. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it? Are you really getting wet?”Michelle walked up to Carla, who was still bent over the desk. She placed her fingers on Carla’s exposed mound and rubbed her pussy, making Carla gasp in delight. Then she slipped a finger into Carla’s pussy. It went in easily.“Ooh, you are wet, aren’t you?” said Michelle. “What a dirty.