So now I'm torn between taking my ass to work or worshiping my wife's feet for a few minutes. They were freshly painted. She keeps them done because s...e knows I like it, and I know she didn't shower before she went to bed. When it comes to foot fetishes there are so many degrees and levels. Some people simply like to to look, some are into arches, some toes, some soles, and some even the smell. Me, I'm all the above and then some. So with me knowing she didn't shower before bed, i was so. Of course when she left the room the sexual tension was in the air my son in law was being shy but asked if he could get me anything to drink. I told him I was okay but after a moment went to the kitchen to look for some wine. I couldn’t find any so my son in law came to look for himself. When he came in I felt a rush come over me and instantly wanted him. When he said there was some in the basement and told me where I said okay I’ll grab it. When I proceeded to leave the room he gave me a. This was the thing that older man’s fantasies are made of. My pecker showed its interest. Tara noticed, laughing, “Well, somebody likes the idea!” She reached out for it. I was a goner.We fucked on the beach. Damn, it was good. I felt thirty years younger and she obviously had a good time. Those titties were a delightful hand and mouthful.She even got me hard again for a long screw with a weak cum shot before we went back to the house.After she saw me return from church the next day, she texted. Martina came to halt before her at a respectful distance, and bobbed a quite decentcurtsey. Claire regarded with mocking curiosity the figure before her. The pink chiffonheadscarf, low on the forehead and tied behind the ears; the hastily-applied eyebrowpencil, rouge and lipstick; the skimpy, scanty pink frock, generously trimmed with whitelace, its skirt only just long enough to cover the bare essentials, and then only just,and the plunging neckline ending with a pretty edging of white lace.