You enter me in one long thrust, both of us crying out involuntarily with the contact. I clench my inner muscles around your cock and lower myself, im...aling myself on your shaft, sinking you deeply inside of me. You lean your head back against the rim of the tub, feeling my nipples rub the smooth skin of your chest. My hands rest on your shoulders and I bend my head to meet your lips again, gazing deeply into your eyes as I arch my hips up and then back down the length of your cock, slowly. "Jen sighed. "But that's what you and I talked about more than once. It shouldn't be just a physical act. If your shoulder itched where you couldn't reach to scratch it, would you rather rub up against a door frame, get a stranger to give it a quick scratch, or bare your shoulder to somebody who knows exactly how you like to be scratched, and who turns that scratching session into a session of comfort and care?" Are you sure I'm not YOUR daughter?" I asked her."Only if I slutted myself out when. She laid her head on my chest and threw her arm over, just as she had done a million times before. This time was different. This time had new meaning.“Any chance you can pencil in some time with your mistress this weekend?” she asked.“As much as it pains me to say this,” I said, “I’m afraid you’ll have to ask your mother.”The cottage in Panchagani never happened. I never told her how I really feel. We never made love, and we have not betrayed my wife. My bhatiji’s name is not Bardhini.. It was difficult to remain quiet as I kissed him while not wanting Laura to know I was about to molest her son.I slid my hand a little higher and stopped just before the bulge in his right pant leg. I could feel the tip of his cock against the side of my hand. I silently debated whether to go further. It did not take me long to decide that I wanted Stan now. That I was not about to play coy or hard to get. My hand moved on to his cock and squeezed to let him know it was not a mistake. Stan’s.