I had quit smoking more than fifteen years ago and I was feeling a little nauseous as we walked. “I love to look at your oh so prim and proper ass,�...� Claire said, pushing me ahead of her as we walked and I could feel her eyes on the back of my suit skirt as she followed behind me. I knew the way to her shitty basement suit and led us there, gagging on the cigarette. Claire lived five blocks from the bar, and for the entire walk I was torn. On the one hand was an intellectual desire to get the. Her ass looked so beautiful as she walked away, but as she came back, the site of that fake white cock and balls hanging from where I have always loved looking was equally disconcerting. And yet, there was no denying the bulge that was in the front of my own pants at the thought of my wife becoming a mistress.She sat down in the chair and looked me straight in the eyes and pointed at her cock. “Suck it. I want to hear you gagging on it. Isn’t that what you tell me?” She said, with an eyebrow. Sam, please, she moans, trying to tug him over her, urging him to take her. He ignores her pleas, intent on making her feel everything. Feel all the things hes been trying to tell her for so long. All the things he felt while she was gone. Fingers tight on her hips, his mouth finds her core and she moans. He winds her up and up and up, her writhing body and harsh sounds pushing him forward. He feels her reaching the edge, knows the sounds she makes when shes close. And he stops. Her frustrated. "Henry barely heard her as he stared wonderingly at the wall- size looking glass, his eyebrows raising in surprise as the mirror first turned dark, then slowly transparent, revealing a sumptuously-decorated bedroom. He whistled appreciatively as the writhing trio on the bed came into clear focus, his sparkling eyes drinking in the lewd sandwiching of a shapely blonde girl between two viciously fucking men.Then Henry stiffened in his chair, his handsome young face paling as he blinked his eyes.