He wanted to know her. Ask her. But a question like that would either not be or could not be answered so directly by someone who wasn’t ready for it... He knew that much. He knew she was capable of real conversation. They’d had plenty of less personal debates before about religion, politics, modern events. Most of the time though it naturally tended towards their common denominator, Laura, as it did that day. ‘So yeah. Laura told me you picked out that new bra I liked.’, he offered. As soon as he. Come talk to me while I’m cooking.”“Okay.” She followed me into the kitchen, taking a seat at the wide island. I tore off a paper towel and began patting dry the thick, fat scallops on the butcher’s block. Violet’s eyes grew wider. “Oh, yum.” She rested her elbows on the black granite of the island and placed her chin in her hands, happily watching me work.“Have you thought about moving up your appointment with your therapist?” She went every week; her last visit had been a few days ago.She. So it was in the Maspalomas dunes where Krissy and I were planning on spending some time a few months before all of this Covid-19 shit kicked off.We love Spain’s Canary Islands anyway, but recently we had been watching porn on the internet and saw that the dunes in this area were rife with swapping partners, swingers, voyeurs etc. So we decided to enjoy a break in the sun and see if we couldn’t get involved in a little of the action.We didn’t compromise and booked three weeks at the Club. "I'vebeen asking myself virtually the same questions all week - why am I soexcited by having my husband dressed as a woman; why do I get so turnedon when I am in charge of our love-making; why do I get dripping wetwhen I hold you down on the bed then sink down onto your face and makeyou suck me; why is it so exhilarating holding your wrists to the bed asI sink onto your rock-hard dick then play with your nipples and massageyour breasts through your sexy nightie?"Why do I get weak-kneed at work.