This was beyond my experience, and it seemed beyond that of Maggie as well. We just lay there, rocking our bodies, saying over and over again, wow, oo...h, mmmmm, and many other nonsensical expressions of pleasure.After what seemed like a lifetime of pleasure, we built up the speed of our movements, my cock moving piston-like in her well lubricated and tight fitting love canal, until we simultaneously climaxed in an explosion of sensation. As that lovely bubble burst and subsided, we simply lay. I mean, I had heard that trite little phrase before but it took 18 years for me to really understand it. It wasn’t ba-bump, ba-bump, BA-BUMP beating out of my chest; but looking at that shaft – fuck, it had to be nine inches – and knowing where it was going … well my breathing had shallowed, my pussy was closing back up with apprehension, my pulse felt irregular … ba-ba-da-bump, ba-ba-da-bump … and – even though I had just come – I was as horny as all get-out. I stood up, straddling Rajit’s. And her own sexuality was a tribute to the female spirit. A bead of sensual ecstasy, lying dormant beneath the hood of a "proper lady", waiting to be awakened.For an entire day, I sat in thought, weighing the pros and cons of such a meeting.Logic insisted that I refuse the request. By agreeing to meet, I would only be setting myself up for yet another painful fall from grace.But my heart insisted otherwise. If there was one thing that I had learned in my wife's absence, it was the need for. “That means he’s fair game!” She saw the look on my face. “Sorry,” she said. “I forgot.”“Let’s get you properly attired,” she said quickly as she opened the flap to Glade’s tent. “Come on in. He won’t mind.”Within a few minutes Sylva had shrugged out of her street clothes and put on a purple belly dancer outfit. Rummaging through her bags she found a white underdress—a chemise—that was soft and thin, a medium brown full length skirt, and a matching under breast, lace-up corset top. She helped.