Opening the refrigerator, she pulled out the jug of water, filling a large cup. Still a lot left. That was good. Still, as long as she had a hunky man...here, maybe he could go out back and work the pump..."Menolly..."His voice was weak.Shit.Jeff, slowly, lowered himself onto the couch. He felt tired. Numb. It had come suddenly. A strange feeling, one which brought back hazy memories of childhood illnesses. The couch, so much like one half remembered, made him question the reality of. "Gloria, I'm about done here in the bathroom. Next I'll look at the dryer. I have to get something out of my truck. I'll be right back."Tony passed me in the kitchen and went out to his truck. My mind was all over the place. He looked very handsome. He wore jeans and a black concert shirt. He had Timberland's on his feet. I really wanted to fuck him. I hoped he would want to have sex with me. I was feeling like a hot and horny housewife.I have blonde long hair and blue eyes. I'm five foot six. I needed to make myself look as hot and desirable as she did if I wanted Dad to fill my "pussy" with as much creamy juice as my brothers could eat. If I didn't look like my hot mom, Dad wouldn't get to that orgasmic point to give the family the treat it needed.I picked out that same pair of smooth white stockings and garter belt that Mom had worn that week when Dad and Jim had both fucked her pink pussy. To this I added a matching white lace bra to give the illusion that I might have a chest to. Each time she came she gave the same deep sigh she had at the wedding, teaching me that this was what an orgasm really sounded like, not the exaggerated shouting of ‘Yes,yes’ you hear all the time in porn. These were then whole body orgasms of a woman truly lost in pleasure. It was here that I learnt that fucking should be slow and intense, not the fast bull at a gate process that I have heard so many men (and more particularly their wives) talk about since.All through the next year I would go.