“Beautiful,” he said, but a moment or two later I felt his hand on my thigh. “Your legs are too close together, you’re not fully exposed, spre...d them. Don’t hide. I want to see your cunt.”I could feel my face redden, but I did.“Your husband is a lucky man,” he said, “because he can look at you and have you whenever he wants. But for now, for this week, you’re Dawn, you’re mine, to look at and do with what I want.”I have been married a long time, and although my husband has excellent endurance. One Sunday, while I was setting with another group of boys my age in Youth Sunday School, the pastor came in. The Sunday School teacher had apparently known he was going to drop in. The pastor gave us boys a stern warning about the 'sin' of touching ourselves (meaning, masturbation). As young boys, the very mention of such a thing caused an automatic nervous reaction, because, as the pastor obviously suspected (and rightly so) we were doing precisely that (masturbating, in other words)!He. Tara saw those eyes, and knew they would haunt her dreams forever. The silver gray of them were beautiful, so full of passion and fire, unlike Tara’s brown. Tara’s eyes moved to the man, her husband. His eyes were closed clenched tight as he forced the woman to buck and grind on his erection that was buried deep inside his blonde lover. Tara’s lips trembled in shock and confusion, and the tears fell silently as the silver gray eyes gleamed in joy, as they held locked to the murky brown of. He couldn’t be that old. He looked like he was in his early thirties. He must have been a postgraduate student or maybe a technician. He couldn’t be one of the lecturers for my course. But boy, I was so surprised to see him in the next day, walking into the lecture room with his briefcase and placed it on the lecturer’s table and said, ‘Welcome to Mechanical Engineering Department,’ he smiled. Oh that beautiful smile… ‘My name is Dr. Michael Matthews but you can just call me Mr. Matthews.’ Oh..