Not floppy at allAnd what exactly is this Miss?He grins and walks offI don’t care must be the alcohol I’m proud of my handy work maybe be I’ll g...t into this and start making penis flutes yes that must be a money making dragons den master plan of the century Clay penis flutes I can even open a little art studio by the river A few weeks later I get a call to pick up our work A little embarrassed I was a little drunk that day ooooopsI knock on the door You young lady are lateSorry I missed the. .. slowly at first then with more force. her eyes were forced open with the size, and ferocity of his thrusting but there was no stopping him (or her) by now. I backed off to observe and saw the other guy stroking himself through his trunks and I did the same. Meanwhile this guy was now treating my wife like a lump of fuck-meat.He simply said mumbled to her things like "c'mon girl ... take it ... take it" she herumphed, moaned and groaned. At one stage I could hear him saying "fucking happy. Kurtz. Maybe he’d been too young and too stupid to see how unhappy she was. Tired, yes, she’d always looked tired, but underneath her puffy, crinkled face he now saw something else. And the reason he saw it now, was that he’d seen a tiredness like hers before, almost a year ago, in Paris.He’d been there to model in a Dior fashion show and doing a shoot for Elle magazine. The latter had left him exhausted in a dressing room at the back of a photo studio – sipping Spanish Cava. Honor would meet. Fresh fruit some fresh ice water. Rachelle seen his eyes make contact with hers she smiled at him leaning down and kissing his lips. He was so absolutely drained from all of his past tiredness, his body and mind were as one. Floating it seemed above life around him. This had to be nirvana. He took his hands and brought her to his lips. Slowly he kissed her lips this was real. These lips were real. He had to be awake this couldn’t be some beautiful day dream. Her lips were soft and yielding,.