Is it really any great wonder that I prefer to limit sexual intercourse to this type of sex?Plus there’s that added frisson I get by being that kind...of wife, the kind of wife who has her husband in check but who unabashedly fucks her Bull like a woman possessed… Works for me! Besides, not having sex with my husband makes intercourse with Marcus more urgent and better because he’s the ONLY man giving it to me. In fact, my recent pattern has been that when I end with one lover, I immediately look. Suddenly we had arrived and I felt a tad angry, but she leant across and whispered into my ear, 'I will wash your pussy upstairs and fuck you properly', I almost jumped out of my skin with her blunt remark, and too my horror, the taxi driver had a broad smile on his face, I was convinced he had heard her also, but even more when she had leant across the seat to pay, she was saying something to him, as I waited at her front door, he wrote something down, then reached over and squeezed his. Her vagina looked small and tight. She danced up to it, and stood on a step stool. She placed the giant head against her vagina, and then slowly worked it down. The crowd of spectators gasped, video cameras’ red lights came on and strobes flashed. The head vanished into her vagina. Slowly she worked it in. “Give me a beat.” She said. The music came on. She moved up on the dildo, and at every beat, she came down. She bent her knees, and squatted down further still going up then down. As she went. I extended my legs again and threw one behind him, hooking my heel behind his thigh, using it to pound my hips back into his. Meeting him thrust for thrust.I began to cum, not a hard clitoral orgasm, but a deeply satisfying vaginal one. Waves of pleasure rippled through my belly to wrap themselves around my soul as the refrain repeated itself in my skull. I ground out my orgasm on his thick manhood, sucking his tongue, tasting the warm muskiness of the whisky. A long, deep, multi-crested, gut.