All of them, including my wife, were joking about 'the last time they would see that white dress' and 'no more bra straps sticking out'. Steph blushed...for the first while, but seemed to settle down as the same comments surfaced repeatedly. Sara obviously had a very close knit family and I was starting to feel bad that we hadn't made the effort to visit before, and especially bad about putting up a stink about travelling out here for Christmas.At one point I had to excuse myself to go to the. It involved a cabal of businessmen at the corporation where I was working. We were all shifting money around on the markets like it was candy. It was the height of the corporate banking bundling era, and we were in the thick of it. Derivatives were the thing. In the midst of this were these four cheeky businessmen and me. Among the men there was an American, an Englishman, and a Canada, and an Australian. Together the five of us were about to make the biggest market killing of all time. I had. His arms were toned and muscular, as were his legs. But the most undeniably attractive part of him was his abs. As he stretched and leaned in all different ways I could see his abs popping and flexing, it was amazing, I’d never seen someone in real life with a body like that; he was like an underwear model. Suddenly I felt so inferior, since I had to flex in a certain way to get my abs to show.He finished up his stretching routine and sat down on the bench. To my surprise he loosened the towel. The downside was the abrupt exposure to cold air that threatened to deflate my throbbing hardness despite the silken, forbidden flesh it was pressed against.My mother swung easily out of her- our, I reminded myself- bed, disdaining the notion of covering up in front of her son. "Up and at 'em," she laughed as I groaned, having been robbed of the warmth of her embrace and the bedclothes. She wrinkled her nose at our dishevelled state, noting for the first time the evident marks of our union on.