Periodically, a man covered in scarves would walk around and feel the breasts of all the women there.When the day was over, the chief asked the anthro...ologist if they were following English law exactly. The anthropologist replied that they did, but couldn’t understand about the man in the scarves.The Chief said, “Well we don’t understand it either, but it’s clearly part of English law.”“What?” exploded the anthropologist? “Where did you get that?”The chief pulled out the London Times and showed. I spun around, running on the high heels like a giraffe on ice. The result was inevitable. I crashed to the floor, arms and legs flaying in all directions. Looking over my shoulder I saw my butt with the red material wedged inside the crack. I screamed again, scrambling to my knees, knowing the movement thrust my naked ass at my son. Then I scampered to my feet and, with both hands behind me trying to shield my ass, I walked as quickly as I could to the safety of my room.Plopping onto my bed I. After a couple of glasses of wine, everyone was loosened up. The wives laid side by side on one of the beds and wanted to be eaten by their husbands. After one climax, they swapped men and got another one from a different tongue, then pulled the closest dick into their cunt.Each wife reached over and felt her husband’s pecker going in and out of the other wife, and diddled that clit to a climax. The drained and spent men were rolled off to their backs and each wife got in the 69 position with. He was older, with many inhibitions that had to be overcome.Sandy felt that if he could get his hands on the girl, manage to fuck her at least once, part of those inhibitions would come tumbling down. And she wanted her husband to relax, to enjoy sex in every way possible. Fucking would be much better for her if he would enjoy sex. Perhaps, if her husband could fuck that teenage sexpot, he would be more willing to do other things too, things that Sandy wanted and hungered for.But she knew that.