She stood behind me and felt my chest, as each picture made us hotter and hotter. Finally I said: “There!”…It was one of her lying on the couch ...n her back.She had her legs bent at the knee and way apart, in a wide open little pussy shot. You could see the wetness of her pussy. She had a devilish smile and her arms extended out to the camera. It was like a ‘come and fuck me’ type pose. I hit ‘print’, and out it came…perfect! She took the picture and placed it on the table in her room. She stood. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, so I went to a restaurant for a cup of coffee to wait and return around 5 pm to see the men leave. Joan and I had been married for over 25 years. I thought we had a solid loving married relationship. Our sexual desires had seemed to be exceptional. Joan was still a very beautiful and desirable woman, a bit heavy but still turned the heads of men. I knew men looked at her and this did make me happy that I had a ‘hot’ wife. I just couldn’t understand. Who would wear this as a perfume? She was actually getting light headed for real. She coughed again. ‘I need a break.’ She tried to say, but again her words were transformed into meaningless moans and when she tried to push his hand and the towel away she noticed, her arm wasn’t responding. It was heavy and kind of limp. She could barely lift it high enough and she didn’t have enough strength to push him away. She tried to turn her head and look at him. Did he just put real chloroform on. She said George drove too close to the edge of the road, and when he hit a tree or mailbox, which she just KNEW he was bound to do sooner or later, she wanted to be able to cushion herself against the back of the passenger seat. “No flying windshield glass for her, no sir.” Was what she had said. Watching the road scared her, so she watched the scenery out the side window, or, if that was too boring, occupied her mind by making up limericks. She liked to make up dirty ones; she said it was more.