Her name was Doreen and, although she was a wonderful girl, I still had that wandering eye like so many guys do.One night, a group of older women came...in to the club to celebrate someone's birthday and since the primary job of the band is to help our patrons enjoy themselves, Doreen found out who the party girl was. It turned out that one in the group was turning sixty and her girlfriends had brought her in to party. The lady's name was Joyce and I must say that for sixty years old, she looked. I was stood looking between her legs at the wet stain on the crotch of her purple pants.Head turned to one side one arm laying high on the Rock,the other free to explore, between her legs. Her fingers traced the lips of her vagina stopping,occasionally to press on its hungry tunnel.Soon became obvious I was going to have to wank myself off. I could barely stand my cock was like an iron bar. Quietly I unzipped and bent forward to lift my aching cock out.I resume my peeping activities, cock in. ‘Martha! How are you doing?’ I asked, very upbeat. She turned around, smiling. ‘Hi Allan! I’m good. It’s nice to meet you again. If I didn’t know better, I would say that you are stalking me.’ Oh my God! She is coming on to me. This might just be easier than I thought to get close to her after all. ‘Oh, but I am! It has been such a long time since I met a woman worth stalking, and there you were, splendid, classy, and wonderful. As a matter of fact, I have a GPS tracker in your car. It makes. ”“Nor his wife. There is that. But what sort of life does Anne want?”“Not what sort of husband do I want?”“Mercy, no. The first question is what sort of life. Do you want to be bored?”“Not at all. Do you think Deborah wanted to be bored? Do you think that is why she married Brian?”“No. You will never repeat this?” Anne assured her that she would not. “Brian bores me. Ten minutes in his company are like ten hours in a coach on a rainy day. I do not think, however, that he bores your sister.”“He.