It seemed like us he had moved away from London, down to a sleepy village in Devon some 50 odd miles from where we lived in and to cut a long story sh...rt, it had been his suggestion to meet up and catch up on old times, hence my wifes reason for letting me know about him for it was then she asked me if I was ok about the idea of her meeting him halfway for old times sake. That was several months ago and since then (what I hadnt known) was the two of them had met up on a number of other. (Pretty stupid, but then again, so were most of Henry's tales.) But as the sex scene was driving to a climax (Henry couldn't help chuckle to himself while thinking about that), he couldn't decide how to end the tale. Of course, the guy Fred would just leave the ladies to stew in their own sexual juices, but the exact words eluded his mind. Henry was under a major deadline to finish this story in only three days. This was about the worst possible time for him to develop writers' block. His body. He was still straddling me, eyes blazing, and I almost hoped he would rip the clothes right off of me. As quickly as I could, I pulled my shirt and bra over my head and let them fall to the floor. He got off me so I could wiggle out of my pants, and undressed himself quickly and unceremoniously. Then he was right back on the bed, kneeling in front of me, grabbing at me and pulling me onto my stomach. Get on all fours and suck it, was his next command. He grabbed at my hair and shoved his cock. Once the rest of her bathing suit was off, she motioned for me to join her as her fingers started stroking her clit. I took off my bathing suit and joined her on the couch. She started to crawl on top of me when we heard a familiar sound. Matt and Rya were going at it again, but this time it was much louder than earlier. Sheri sat on my lap and listened for a few moments. “Are they on the balcony?” Sheri asked me. “Only one way to find out,” I replied. We walked out onto the balcony and Sheri.