She kissed my neck and took my breasts in her hands. "You have the softest breasts," she whispered in my ear as I felt her hands kneading them. She wa... slow and gentle. Her fingers grazed my nipples and her mouth found its way back to mine. I placed my hands on her sides, feeling her soft skin between her shirt and panties. And for the next few minutes we just stood there, kissing while she played with my breasts. I had no intention of stopping her, and even if I had, I couldn't. Right now, she. Then my wife let my head go and said, "You know what to do. Do it now!" I turned and looked at the huge cock with its thick bush of black hair and heavy balls below, then up, scanning the gorgeous body towering over me. The flat stomach with sharply defined abs, the muscular, hairy chest, then up to the hard-edged face with the deep blue eyes and smirking mouth. "Now!" my wife demanded, again. So I put my tongue out and tentatively touched the tip of his cock. It was just starting to leak. With it in hand, he leaned over the bottom of the girl’s plastic loincloth belt thing. There were two slots right below the pig tail, and he threaded both of the tubes into them, pushing them through until they were all the way in. There were tiny, almost unnoticeable knobs near these two holes; the man carefully took his fingernails and used them to tighten the tube channels. It would keep them from popping out. Once that was done, he took the smaller bulb and loosened the knob that kept it. Of course I KNOW why...it is Erin's well practiced skill...her knowledge of my cock...which enables her to assault my prick with pleasure and yet keep me teetering on the brink of ecstasy.Her hand never strokes me the same way twice. Fast, slow...tight, soft...hard, gentle...long strokes, short strokes. She knows and loves every detail of my boney hardness...every bump, every ridge, every shape, contour and pulsing vein. Her tender fingers lovingly trace the surface of my raging tool.For a.