"Well, I guess nobody really is. But tell me, do ya love 'im?"Hugh thought of Erin, waiting by the altar, dressed magnificently in a black tuxedo and ...ow tie. "Yes!" Hugh stated firmly."Well then, you're as ready as you'll ever be." He smiled and held out his hand.This time Hugh slipped his small and elegant hand (Hugh was wearing silk gloves for the occasion) into Mr. O'Neil's larger rough farmer's hands. Mr. O'Neil grasped the hand gently and reassuringly. Stepping forward, he opened the. I was having trouble trying to control my breathing. ‘Are you going to finish that?’ Mr P asked pointing at my plate and putting his bottle of beer on the table beside my elbow. Pulling out a chair, he plonked down beside me. I glanced over at him… and wished to God I hadn’t. The heady scent of fresh cut lawn and fresh male sweat hit me in the face and my insides turned to mush. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Sweat glistened over his muscular chest and arms and dampened the waistband of his low. A complete stranger who she had never met before. The more I talked, the more she got excited. I wanted to be sure she was ready for what was going to happen. Then I left her to watch from the other room. Something about a women playing with herself while she waits for the guy that is coming over to fuck her. Her thoughts, and desires and the anticipation as to what is to happen, as she fingers herself thinking about it. Nothing more beautiful than that site. And I’ve been blessed with that. What would she do? What would she try? Would she do the things she does to me or try something different? Would Lisa and I join or just be voyeurs? In our fantasies, Betsy always let the other lover (dildo or vibrator) fuck her pussy or ass. She said that she wouldn’t suck another cock or swallow his load; that was too “personal” and saved her blowjobs for me. Betsy was very experienced at giving head. She must have practiced all of her life before she met me. She gives the best blow jobs that.