"You presumptuous prick!" she exclaimed, raising her voice. "I came looking for you. Everyone saw that little scene you caused. I had to come and find...you before Richard did. At least you're predictable. This is the first place I looked." "How is Dickie?" "Don't you bloody dare," she pointed at him. She was very well spoken, her accent clashing with her tone and words. "Is he enjoying the day? Are you? How many thousands did he pay for that dress?" "Why now, Ryan?" she shouted, her eyes. I totally surrendered myself to the feelings of pleasure and lost all of my previous anxiety. I trusted him as a lover and was now ready to give myself to him. He stood up and gently pressed his cock into me. He said, "Ahhh, there's where I want to be. And you wanted it to, didn't you?" I said, "Yes, from the moment I first saw you I wanted you to fuck me." And, fuck me he did. He started slow and gentle till I was at ease and then he picked up speed and momentum. Eventually, he was. It was now around 5pm and we were just chatting and we were both naked and he showered and I showered and we sat on the bed without the TV on talking about our sex lives and our wives and our likes dislikes. I told him about when the wife and I were younger and more wild as c***dren of the 70's and I told him of my wife's experiments with other guys and girls during college and how we shared our past experiences except for my male to male experiences because she thought it was sick yet it was. She grinned down at him deviously, biting her lip and lifting her hips forward and off of the wall towards him. It was more than enough of an invitation than he needed. He pushed one of her legs up with his hand just high enough, holding her tight at the waist with the other hand and ducking between her legs to run a slow and teasing lick right at the base of her clit and upwards. She lost a beat or two of her heart in the all-too-quick movement, instant goose bumps running up her spine..