That took some of the fun out of it (for me) but the feeling was still there and we enjoyed it. I was, again, quizzed by some of the wives, a little a...out how I felt about dressing that way, some about ‘if’ I could, would I? Same answer. It was obvious that my man was indeed hung. There were comments and some questions about that, mostly about his size and, ‘How the hell do you…uh…handle that…back…uh…you know…there?’The answer was always the same, “I scream a lot, yell a lot then, walk funny. His raven-haired bride then pointed her toes – a carryover from her proficient high school gymnastics – and spread her thighs as wide as she could, her knees bent and flanking her midsection, feet elevated in an unmistakable invitation. Her blatantly exhibited vagina, egged on my her groom’s surprise aggression, felt as if it was heating more rapidly than the burning logs across the room, and was seemingly resonating with its need for attention. ‘You are acting like such a SLUT!’ Mona’s. Sheimmediately reacted, and came over to the table. She took hertime, stopping to handle an object enroute. Very nonchalant.Certainly not chasing after me! She gave me one of those glances,flashed that naughty smile, and asked, "What do you plan to do withthat?" I was lost for words--rare for me! "I like leather," wasmy reply.We chatted briefly about antiques. And she mentioned that todaywas her birthday--she was 23. She looked 23, except for those eyesand that smile. They betrayed a. My hips rotated, driving up to meet his thrusts. His hand caressed my thigh, moving up to brush my baby bump, then I sighed as he found my breast, his fingers tenderly played with my nipple. The pleasure radiated out, mingled with the fire burning in my cunt. My orgasm was long, gentle, and I shuddered as my husband kept spearing me. I moaned into his lips, and savored the power of his thrusts. His strokes grew harder, churning me up as his pleasure mounted. I couldnt wait to feel his cum.