It was just a shadow but it moved further across each picture. Then there was a ripple in the skin of her forehead that turned into a bump. The next p...cture was the start of the stumble and the beginning of the explosion.There was a knock on the door; Eric, Frank, and Len were there, “We are almost ready to start.”“I’m not ready yet; they will wait. Take a seat,” I said as I pointed to a chair.In the next picture the burka had started to expand like a gust of wind was under it; there signs of. Despite this, there were more and more times when they were making love that he seemed to be somewhere else. This never seemed to decrease his physical effort, but no matter how much harder he worked, the results were becoming less and less. Then, last night, even with one of her more energetic performances, he continued to pump, and pump, and pump away, until he finally softened within her, pulled out in failure, and before rolling over to fall asleep gave her a sheepish and embarrassed. I couldn’t rationalize being turned on by her body. Such were my emotions for next eight days; every night was a repeat of the night before, beginning with my waiting for Becca to pleasure herself, and ending with my fingering myself and squirting in my pajamas. The practice of listening to her masturbating had quickly become a routine. And I quickly adopted two faces: during the day, I was shameful of my lustful thoughts, and I had considered talking to a counselor or something about it.. I studied the thick thatch of dark pubic hair and got an idea. I went to the bathroom and got a hand towel, soaking it and wringing it out. I grabbed her razor and a bottle of conditioner. I ran the towel through the microwave and pulled out the steaming mass and juggled it on the way back to where I stood between her knees. I laid the steaming rag over her mound and she arched her back with a sudden gasp, "ahhhh," she exhaled. I left it until it cooled to about luke warm. I peeled it off.