“Up to you beautiful, doesn’t matter to me. Although there is one drawback to not going.”, I replied. “What’s that ?”, she asked, taking a...sip from her mug. “Well, every year when your sister kisses me for Christmas, I get some tongue.”, I answered. Michelle spit coffee on all the kitchen counter and down the front of her t-shirt. She was choking and laughing trying to recompose herself. “Oh, I’ll get you for that one.”, she giggled, cleaning up with a kitchen towel. We went to the grocery. The panties actually went on reallyeasily, and they felt great against my pussy. Boxers were alright justfor laying around but once I got up and moving, they felt rough againstmy sensitive lips. Now it was like my lady junk was pushing up against anice firm wall of silk.The jeans were no less skinny than they were the day before, and as suchno less difficult to put on. Like everything else I thought I had it,but then realized that just because they could fit over my legs, didn'tmean they could. He leans toward me and kisses me! If I weren't drunk, I'd be shocked by the public nature of it. Meantime his hand moves way up between my thighs and brushes against my crotch. I jump at the touch. Here's a man I barely know kissing me and running his hand up under my skirt. This started because my husband wants me to please this man, to let this man play with my body, if that's what he wants. I think this is getting out of hand. But I don't want to stop it. I was reluctant at first. But with. I could feel the cold, metallic lip piercing rubbing on my sensitive aerola. Kelli had slipped a second finger up inside me and was sucking my clit, hard, while her tongue played with it between her lips. My hips were starting to twitch as my orgasm built. Oh, you fucking sluts are going to make me cum, I moaned. Yes, fuck yes! Keep it up! You dirty whores! The pressure was building inside my womb, the two sluts every touch adding more and more pleasure until I could no longer take it. I.