No, I could hardly take offense; I could not claim that she left me with no pride. I had sacrificed that for the sake of our tenuous relationship. She...looked over at me and noticed. "Ginny, are you looking at my feet, sweetie?" "Oh no, Jan, I was, er, just looking down at the carpet." "Oh, I think you like my feet, don't you, Ginny?" "Well, Jan, your feet are certainly pretty, no one could deny your feet are pretty.." She said, "thank you, sweetie." I noticed she opened her legs just enough. Both desires excited her. It wasn’t until her master began to release into her mouth that she made her decision. Knowing that in their current situation her master would have an intimate view, she opens her mouth and subtly liberates his recent gift into her hand. Then, after carefully maneuvering her hand to the top of her back, she begins the slow, seductive, process of working his essence into her rear passageway, moaning intensely at each penetration, her fingers sliding deep into her. Looking down he could see a smear of blood on his shaft as he pulled it out. It felt like someone had shoved a fist into her poor pussy, but she’d done it, she was fucking her mother’s husband. Gradually she could feel the walls of her pussy stretching just as he had said it would. After a while the feel of his hard cock sliding in and out of her began to feel good and then real good. She loved how full she felt when he was deep inside of her. When he took his thumb and started to rub her clit. She began to stumble in her words saying she was getting hot and needed a break. He told her he thought it might have been something else, looking down at his crotch. As she looked, she said that too made her stop. He asked her why. She didn’t know what to stay and just stared at his bulge. He realized she wasn’t taking her eyes off of it, so he went for it. She lifted his hips up off the couch and pulled down his shorts. It was easy since they were just those long basketball shorts. He then.