She asked for my wife and why she did not turn this time with me. I sat on the sofa and TV was running in the room. She asked me to have some tea and ...ent to kitchen. I was so moody on seeing her structure. She was wearing a yellow saree and blouse. Normally, she used to wear tightly, she walked on to kitchen shaking her assess. Within few minutes she called me to kitchen for helping her to take the cup and sawcer from the shelf. I entered into the kitchen and saw her standing on a stool and. I wanted to turn away, wanting to rush out of there. These last moments already felt like an episode from the Twilight Zone.Grandma's old, brown-spotted, wrinkled hands came up and began to undo the buttons of the flowered top of her dress. I could see that her hands trembled slightly, though I did not understand enough at this moment to realize why.I watched as though I was not in my body, as though this was happening to someone else. The old woman pushed the top of her dress down off her. As it often happens, I was not fucking Tasheka. She was fucking me. Two days later an unmarked envelop showed up at my desk at work. Inside was a CD with last 3 fuck sessions I had with Tasheka. There were many photos as well. There was no letter, no address, no demand for money but the message was clear. I immediately left work and headed to the largely black and hispanic neighborhood Tasheka had her studio. The door was wide open. She was sitting on the small couch she owned in a shimmering. He leaned over and whispered, “Yes I want him to fuck you. Please tell me!” He took another sip of wine, “And make it naughty.”Katie felt her pussy dripping with her secretions as she jerked her husband under the table. She fought everything in her body to not drop underneath the table and suck his prick right now. “Well...” she sighed, “He took me to his place and he called his high school friends over,” as she stared into her husband’s eyes.Fred felt his mouth hanging open as he stared.