On the station, I had fucked Mia every night. It was passionate, desperate, as though each kiss might be our last; as though any perfunctory penetrati...n could tip the world into chaos. Now at home, I fucked my wife every night. Customarily. Proficiently. Sometimes indolently. As though we were eternal; as though there'd always be a tomorrow. The contrasting performances were as different as the two women who starred in them, as different as life and death, yet both women seemed equally. I did the same. She teasingly asked if I had reached my goal of having 112 girlfriends yet. I told her no and asked how the hell she rememberd that. "I remember every thing, I'm your best friend duh!" that was a little bitter sweet, but I'll exept it. We put on Mortal Kombat (a very old favorite of ours) and she beat me every round, I have no idea where she learned it from, but whatever, and she asked me if i had monopply. I searched my entire house. I took extra long just so I could watch her. The wife has only one chance in her entire life to experience the marriage rituals. I counter argued once that after divorce, she could pass her life with her mom. But her mom and my grandma is a witch to some extent. She had five daughters including my mom. One committed suicide due to the mental and physical harassment by that witch. So it’s obvious that my mom wouldn’t take the serious step of divorce and then spend rest of life with that mother witch. Another possible way was to stand her. My nipples tingled and my slick slit ached. I moved a bit hoping to relieve the pressure building in my pussy. I hadn't realized that Pam had gotten up to take off her shoes until I turned my head to readjust myself. I came eye level with her crotch. I licked my lips trying not to look to obvious. 'Oh My God!!, I have my face at her cunt. I can smell her woman scent.'I raised my head a bit, glancing up to see her expression. My lips gently brushing against her zippered paradise. I swallowed.