I sat at the kitchen table and thought, tears running down my cheeks.Wanda’s voice from the doorway, “Brandy? At four in the afternoon?”I had my...back to her. “I don’t think I’ve ever cum so hard,” I said.“When was that, love?”“No, darling, not even with her.” My memory is pretty good. “I know I’ve been saying that for months but I will, I promise.”There were a few cliché moments after that. Cliché numbr one: retaining my dignity as one would expect I turned and hurled the glass of brandy at. I felt the object in my anus be slowly withdrawn and re-inserted. My cock was growing hard despite the constraints of the nylon and felt a hand stroke it teasingly, again the object withdrawn and replaced. Lips pressed gently against my lips- then nothing. I had to assume she had left the room.So there I was. My hands bound, my knees bent back, my feet tied securely in the air and my butt exposed and plugged. I could see nothing and hear only the music piped to my ears via the headphones. I was. Smith, the landlady who usually satdownstairs on a lawn chair in the front yard watching theworld go by. The curtains were closed and only her bottomhalf emerged from between them. She was wearing one ofher ratty old sweatpants and stood leaning on one leg,with her hips off to the side, one cheek a little higherthan the other.At that exact moment, the way the thick cloth draped andaccented the shape of her ass looked very good to him. Hethought about how she had looked earlier, walking. She was 42 at this time but still had a very fit body and knew how to use it. as we walked down for our evening meal she once again became weak at the knees seeing lots of hunky young men and sexy women. At the meal she kept looking round and I said you don’t know who to have first do you and she said I want all of them. Every time the waiter came to our table i could see him look down her top and her 36dd tits. she would flirt with him, after the meal we sat outside and ordered drinks. We got.