Either way, I would have to live with it. I didn't want to live without her. Maybe I was falling in love. The next Saturday morning, I managed to get ...ff early again. She was lying on my bed, on her belly, the sheet over her. Naked. Again, I began with that sweet buttinski. She got up onto her knees and stuck it up in the air for me. I could smell fuck perfume again. This time I got Junior wet in her cream pie before I dipped him into her chocolate. Her cunt was big and wet. She'd been fucked,. Every time her husband places his hands on my hips, grins at me, and opens his mouth wide to swallow me, I wake up. Just like that. Every fucking time, I wake up. I've had that dream three times in the last week. Three times this week, I have taken my cock in my hands, squeezed my eyelids shut, and played that dream over in my head. "Mmm, Paula. You want that? You want me to fuck your husband's mouth and flood it with my jizz?" I stare at the back of my eyelids, desperately willing her husband. I almost tip-toed to the open door so to not surprise anyone. As I got closer, I could hear a man's groans, the sound of bed springs, and the sound of flesh slapping flesh. Sure enough, there was my wife, spread-eagle on the bed with Marc's ass going up and down in a fast tempo as his balls hit the bottom of her ass and sides of her thighs with every thrust. My wife didn't make much sound at the time, yet Marc was really into her as his massive white dick pumped in and out of her chocolately. It's a great pleasure to speak to you. " "Is this on the level?" came a tense voice. "You're not involved with that Poop or Foof place, are you?" Dill was dumbfounded. Could the head of the best-known sex research organization in America be a paranoid nut? "I am speaking to Dr. Roger Prong?" he asked carefully. "Yes, yes—but how can I be sure who I'm speaking to?" "Well, " Dill said, "if you have your doubts, call me back. Go through information, to check the number, and then have.