We docked in something resembling the missionaryposition, half-covered by Meg's Supergirl cape.Now I could feel that hot, hard shaft hesitantly workin... its way into mywet inner spaces. The sensation of it sliding into me broadcast littlebuzzes of bliss throughout my loins. My knees were spread apart as faras I could get them, to accept Meghan's rigid member. She wasdesperately trying to figure out how this worked; how to coordinate herhips and limbs and get enough traction to fuck me. Grunting,. My wife has scars and bruises all over her legs. She is the mother of three boys, and with that comes football, baseball, soccer, and Boy Scouts. She was a swimmer herself, and could not have cared less about these kinds of things, but she made herself into quite the coach as necessity required. I love these scars too. Our joke has been that should I piss her off enough, she could have me sent to prison for wife abuse simply by showing the cops her legs. My wife has a scar on her chest, where. What can I say.” “Consolation prize. If you lose, I’ll let Murial entertain you for the evening. Take the sting out of it.” Murial was, apparently, the fairy being vigorously licked in the middle of the lawn and making all sorts of enticing noises. “Not planning on losing this one,” I said moments before seeing my ball knocked out of play. Ivy, to her credit, didn’t say a word, although the smile she flashed me spoke volumes. Doing my best to ignore the obvious sounds of pleasure from the. She never lasted long with any of them. Now she was drunk, and I was driving her home and she was … honest. Brutally honest. She had no family anyplace near, was moderately successful at work and had looks that would stop a bus load of priests on a dime. I mean, average height, light brown hair, blue eyes, thin face, strong chin, beautiful smile, long neck…. Her tits were set low and while not quite D cup in size, they looked even larger because, as she once confessed to me, she only had a.