The week had been fairly calm, and I’d had my usual Thursday afternoon with Anala, though we’d spent nearly as much time talking as we had explori...g the heights of passion and pleasure. In a sense, things were cooling down a bit from what we’d once described as a honeymoon. It wasn’t that there was less pleasure, or less passion, but the driving urge to have sex had faded just a bit. We saw that as a natural and appropriate progression.The most important thing I needed to do on Friday was call. I was still rock hard and incredibly wet from your blow job. And I wanted you badly. Like Trent Reznor once said, I needed to feel you from the inside. I lowered my body onto yours, as your legs hung over the top step, and laid you down on the top steps. I pushed your dress up slightly and felt your stockings again. My cock was so hard, bouncing around between your legs. I reached up a bit higher, between your legs and found your pussy, completely wet and covered by your black thong. I slipped. Arabella rode him, taking him in deeply and felt a surge of intense pleasure herself. Her little, pearl button rubbed against him as she hit bottom and she rubbed it slowly, finding a greater thrill than she had known. In seconds, her hand was down there and rubbing the area briskly. Braedon lay spellbound, as he watched her quickly bring herself to orgasm. Unable to fathom what had taken place, he waited till Arabella’s convulsions stopped before he moved. She caught her breath and then smiled. ’ I watched as her cup stopped at her lips and she looked at me. ‘Oh my God really?’ ‘I found them in their bedroom.’ She put her cup down without drinking and looked at me and said, ‘I’m so sorry…I…’ ‘Thanks. I know I still can’t believe it myself even after all this time.’ ‘Did they find who was responsible?’ ‘They never have.’ ‘I’m sorry that’s rude of me to make you talk about it.’ ‘I’m okay talking about it, I just can’t make myself go into the house even now.’ ‘I, um what will.