In truth I was in something of atrance, trying to come to terms with situation I found myself in. On theone hand I loved the way I looked and if I'd b...en on my own I'd haveminced round the house, admiring myself in every mirror I came across.However I was not dressing for myself.Mr Smith snapped me out of my thoughts. "Sit on the dining chair for me,Gemma". I'd entered the living room, still on autopilot and I'd hardlynoticed Mr Smith placing the chair in the middle of the room clear ofall the. Her black husband was standing in front of me with a good ten inches of hard cock. I smiled at him as I lifted my leg up and moved forward over her face. I sat my pussy down onto her waiting lips and I felt my insides do cartwheels as her lips and tongue contacted my pussy. She lapped at me as I reached forward to grab at her husband’s cock and lead it into my mouth. I sucked on it hard, I pushed my mouth over it and as far down as I could. I absolutely loved big hard cocks. I grabbed at his. I'm doing to the same.I'm trying to harmonize with something deeper than words, trying to find what notes ripple through you, what chord can be plucked and resonate forever. I begin to move within you faster, thumb applying more pressure. It's a dance that I'm learning. There are no instructions. The only map lies inside you and the tune is there waiting to be unearthed.The rhythms are all instinct here, your breath serving as the metronome that determines how fast and hard to go, when to ease. “Use my mouth as a fuck-hole,” she whispered, pursing her glossy red lips. “Fuck my dirty little mouth.” Bumfelt did. But not for long. She was too fucking hot and too fucking good. Her lips touched the tip of his cock’s head. Bumfelt took her head in his hands and fucked her face as requested. His hips bucked up and his hands pulled her tight wet mouth onto his shaft. She groaned in delight making him throughust harder. Deeper. Into her mouth he plunged. Every stroke hitting the back of her.