Storm used to be a Las Vegas showgirl before Stephen married her. He is a very wealthy, titled Englishman in his fifties. She was renowned for her mag...ificent ass and still is even though she is past forty.“Do you know why we want that table and what we are going to do with it Marcel?”, Stephen asks the room service boy with great aplomb as he reads his name off his badge.“Two men are going to have a kinky, sexual threesome with my wife,” he smiles wickedly as I enter. The gown he gave me has. Inch by inch, my body accepted the largeness of the vibrator, until it was fully inserted. I waited for my breathing to return to normal, then I started manually manipulating the vibrator, slowly fucking myself.Each penetration was delivering less pain than pleasure. And I soon found myself taking a hard fucking at my own hands. Satisfied that I had proved capable of surviving that sort of sex, I decided to give myself one more deep push to simulate Mark climaxing in me before pulling out. I. "Yes, long-distance stuff, marathons," I explained. "So you can keep going all the way," she smiled, one hand brushing back the long tresses of her blonde hair. I took that as a hint we were on the same wave-length. "You know what they say, marathon runners keep it up longer." "Sounds good to me," she said. "But that's enough running for one day. Time to do some stretching exercises. Care to join me?" She pointed to a narrow track leading off the main path into a clearing where the local. Her husband had left her over six months ago, running away with a woman he worked with. Good riddance, she told herself. Nowadays, her job was driving her crazy, and taking this scenic route home had been one way she hoped to change things up enough to stay sane. It was a little too scenic. She hadn’t passed another car since leaving the main road, and nothing seemed to be traveling her way now. And she wasn’t exactly dressed for walking. She had hoped that dressing differently for work would.