He set the bag down on the table in front of my wife, and then sat down.My wife took her ankle from my knee, sat up, put her mug down and pulled the t...ssue paper from the top of the bag and reached inside. She pulled out a rather large butt plug.She coughed once - part laugh, part shock. She blushed, put her hand over her chest, "Good Lord," She said, her mouth open.My heart started to beat hard and fast. I chuckled. It was the normal butt plug shape, just larger than any we owned or had ever. She had some problem (no, I never did listen) when her second child was born. At the drop of a hat she will spend most of the evening going through the gory details.I've heard the start of that tale so many times I sometimes wonder if she isn't using it as a come-on for the guys. You know the idea - I can fuck until doomsday and never get pregnant again. Thinking about it, I wonder if that's what really happened to her marriage. Maybe her husband caught her playing the field and not the other. We remained like this for a while, kissing passionately, our cocks grinding and my finger exploring his asshole. Then it was his turn to surprise me.Against my tongue's protests, he broke off our kiss and sat up. For a split second I was terrified that he'd reconsidered what we were doing. But instead of getting off me, he swivelled round. Then he lay down, putting his head directly above my throbbing penis, and his long cock just within reach of my mouth. Eagerly, I reached out with my tongue. Didn't know what to do. Eventually animating, I sought out my pyjamas then spent the afternoon feeling utterly sorry for myself on the sofa alongside a slab of chocolate that would feed four and a stack of DVDs. Pretty in Pink. Coyote Ugly. Guilty pleasures.Perhaps spurred on by the LeAnn Rimes lyrics or the cocoa, when the evening rolled around I'd decided that sorrow wasn't going to own me and that the way to cheer myself up was a drink and some music or dancing. I dolled myself up as best I.