"Did you know that even our spit has the capacity to kill us, if the DNA of the germs in it are only slightly altered?"She stared at him, and then gas...ed as her arm started to itch. She looked at where he had wiped her spittle, and her skin was turning black!"Necrotizing fasciitis," he explained, "a particularly nasty variant. I need you, but not your arm."The blackness spread, now covering her whole elbow. It was hurting!"Please!" Please what?" Please stop this!" Please stop this...?"Her arm. She’d cum in front of him before, but never with such an intense build-up. The others had been from grinding herself on his face with her panties on. At least then Wendell was able to thrill to the scent of her young cunt and the sweet wetness of her lace undies. Now, he had nothing but a foul-tasting length of industrial rubber sliding in and out of his drooling wet lips and the everlasting humiliation of a public ****.“Ooooh… whoooo…” she yelled. She had never been this vocal. Her other. I glanced down, and saw that it was Ken's arm. While his hand came to rest across me on my hip, his wrist was resting directly on my dick. And being the young and sexually inexperienced guy that I was (that we all were at that point), that was all it took, and with just that little bit of pressure I could feel myself starting to get hard... I looked, and Ken appeared to be asleep. I didn't move, tried my best to appear to continue to sleep, and tried to will my dick back down. It wasn't. My wife wouldn't let me eat her pussy, a blow job was definitely out of the question, and she wouldn't even stroke my cock for me. As our marriage was falling apart she started drinking, and she would drink until she passed out more nights out of the week than not.One night she passed out, and when she woke up the next day, hung over and sullen, and asked me what I had done the previous night, I told her I had gone to a bar, found a couple of young studs, and brought them back to our house so.