I was honored that she would mention such things to me. She began,“ It’s not so great having a life of straight missionary sex; no touching or for...play, a few maybe up to thirty seconds of animal lust and Jim would pull his skinny little prick out of me and roll off me and go to sleep. Many times throughout my marriage I would slip my hands down between my legs after Jim went to sleep. I’d manipulate myself to get a little pleasure out of it.” After hearing this, my horny mind got to wandering. I took a deep breath as her fingers moved close to my virgin ass, then looked up into her dark eyes. "So come and get it, sexy," I said, then kissed her roughly. She grinned widely as I pulled away, her frizzy hair bouncing as she started to get up. She crawled to the edge of the bed, exposing her tight ass - and her package, the long hard cock and little balls hanging down like a lure. She grabbed a few things and then returned, setting them before me: a small bottle of lube and two condoms.. She excused herself for a minute and disappeared into another room. When she came out her long, blonde hair had been brushed to a glossy smoothness down her back. The kitchen was separated from the living room by a counter. McKay watched her as she moved about opening the refrigerator door, reaching into cabinets, making dings and clinks as she brought cups and spoons together. The area that was visible was spotless. One wall was neatly lined with books. In the corner was an easel with a canvas. The lawn service had arrived.She’d never known the youth’s name, though he’d been cutting their lawn for years now. In her mind he was just Lawn Boy, although hardly a boy anymore. Over the years Rosalie had watched him develop from a scrawny sixteen-year-old kid to a 6’3”, 175 pound mountain of athletic muscle. He was a blond, big-shouldered, bronzed Adonis with sky blue eyes, and an incandescent smile. Every week when he was done, he knocked on the Wren front door, a sheen of sweat glistening.