I decided to get nosey and asked them if they were victims of the female vulture and they both said yes, among other unrepeatable expressions.I told t...em that I too was a refugee from her clutches and we all compared stories about how she had ravaged us without mercy. I was in a contemplative mood I guess as I absently asked the question about how many others there may be of us in this club of victims of her wrath. One of the guys suggested that was easy to find out. All we had to do was check. She pulled her mouth free for a moment."This is so wicked, Miranda. So vile. So sinful. So... Ohhhhh!"Miranda had learned well from her sister, and even the short and bitter lesson her mother had given her had not gone unlearned, so her fingers were expert, her hands and tongue all working together to drive the hapless housewife into sexual frenzy."If this is so wicked, then tell me to stop. Do you want me to stop Ellen?"She gave an extra flick of her finger to the woman's clit sending her. "My turn" she said and she stepped into the enclosure. I was sitting at the kitchen table when she walked in with her hair wrapped in a towel and wearing one of my shirts. She got a cup of coffee and sat down across from me and said:"How are you feeling?" Pretty good actually." Feeling good enough to talk?" About?" About us Rob, can we talk about us? It seems obvious to me after last night and this morning that you still have some feelings for me. What I'd like to know is can we build on those. Stand over there and face me.” She complies happily. Her wet body is so sexy, springing to her feet, a slight jiggle in her butt and tits. “Take that off,” I motion to the ruined camisole she still wears. She pulls it up over her head and lets it splat down to the floor. “No. Fucking pick it up, wring it out, and hang it on there to dry. You’re a housewife aren’t you? Don’t just leave shit on the floor.”She looks a bit nervous, embarrassed she got something wrong already. She does what I say,.