‘Your cock tastes…. so good… my lord…’ the woman moaned in a throaty voice. ‘Fuck me, my king…. Please, please…. Fuck me with it….�... The king — for he was, indeed, the king — did not need any begging. As she lay back, he rose up and kneeled between her spread legs, his massive cock rearing up high like a stallion on parade. Her fingers crawled down her thighs and found the soft wet flesh of her pussy. Her needs were urgent, even more than his, and she stroked herself even as he parted her lips. We were only friends. That's what she said many years ago, "If you have any hope that we're ever going to be more than just friends, then we can't even be friends." We had been friends ever since.We had just returned to her apartment after spending a day together. We had gone to Ikea to buy some stuff for her home office, then we went to a steakhouse for dinner, then to a movie to see Eyes Wide Shut. We were walking up to her door when she said, "My arms are full, do you have your key?"I. I mean I love them even when they are giving me headaches. But my husband and I have always had sort of a cold relationship. Not a lot of touching. Sex a matter of process to achieve the goal of cumming. At least for him. I love the contact, the intimacy, that moment when I can finally get close to him if even for the short time. But I rarely orgasm. The guy never excites me. Never really had. It was like a professional relationship, man and wife incorporated. So, to answer your question, I. Maggie hastried to bully my wife into hosting one of thosepampered chef parties, one of those deals where thedistributor, Maggie, is the one to make all of the moneywhile the host does all of the work and has her houseget trashed.Both of them have lied and smooth-talked while trying toconvince us to join in these ventures. Maggie has triedto sell us household items like curtains, throw rugs, orfurniture for outrageously inflated prices. When we’vebeen strapped for a babysitter on occasion.