Another catastrophe averted. “Wow! Now I know why my best friend said you were the best! I thought it was hyperbole. But no, you don't miss a detail... I guess I saw it before, but you are obsessive/compulsive! I mean that lovingly. That would have bothered me later if it became apparent. Most men don't get that. Their tie is crooked, so what. But to a woman wearing a lovely dress, her hair is perfect, conservative jewelry, and a run in her pantyhose, words like cheap, unkempt, fake, phony, fraud. She removed the button and then the zip of my pant with her feet. She was a master at sex.I was not wearing any undergarments. When the pant came off me she looked at my cock.After looking she again mourned ummmmm.Its so big she said. Now she held my cock in between both her feet and stated rubbing it. My cock was having a great time. This bitch called mala was having a great time. I now took her nipples over her blouse between my toe and feet finger and squeezed it. She mourned. I can make it about sex, though, since he equates nudity with fucking, and I am rather horny when he is gone.This was the major reason that Connie had divorced her ex-husband: he was absurdly jealous, when she had never been anything but the most faithful and loving wife that she could have been. He had just assumed that when they moved to LA, she would succumb to "Hollywood Syndrome", meaning affairs with colleagues. She had never assumed the same thing about him and women in his films.Having. She looks back at me, almost seemingly nervous again before turning back and closing her eyes, her lips enveloping the very tip of me in exquisite warmth. It is enough to make my world spin for a second as she slowly flickers her tongue across the slit, her mouth dipping further as she begins to gain her confidence again. My fingers fist in the sheets, struggling not to reach forward to grip her hair as she dips dangerously low, almost taking my whole length. I watch as she does so, bottoming.