A lady then emailed me and asked me to meet her personally before getting into bed. Her name was moksha a 40-year-old middle-class lady. She was marri...d, had 2 kids. We decided to meet. She wore a traditional suit and she recognized me by my attire. We went to a coffee shop and spoke on general topics. I asked her about her family and personal life.Me : isn’t your personal life fine? Moksha : it is. My husband has sex at least once in a week with me. But…Me : but?Moksha : I love the variety of. “Give it back!” I said, but to no avail. “Oh come on, take it from me!” she giggled. The parents were looking at us snickering that she was getting the best of me, and I couldn’t have that. I jumped on her tickling her and sliding her all over the couch while she was laughing and screaming, until I finally got it back. “That must’ve been fun” Rita said as she entered the room. Stephanie was really getting to her. I understood completely how she felt, I get jealous anytime anyone even looks at. My wife was now standing in the window of our hotel panting from the excitement of this erotic exposure. This middle aged stranger was now so close we could tell he was openly enjoying his unexpected experience. His gaze easily captured her swelling curves, even in the subdued light, as she thrust her mound toward him and, daringly spread her legs to reveal her perfectly camel toe. I stood behind her and brought my hands up to fondle her soft breasts, kneading the flesh and squeezing her pert. Now that belly of mine loomed into view from under mychest and my thin tee shirt was struggling to cover it up.Well into the second trimester my waistline grew even faster. I couldfeel them inside, the babies, jostling for room, turning this way andthat as they aged exponentially faster. My belly would distend oddlyhere and there as elbows and feet and heads deformed the regular curves.My skin was pale and pliable, so far stretch-mark free and fromsomewhere deep inside my brain I started to.