Go baby, go! But I digress, we were talking about literary greats and what they were doing while composing their masterpieces. Whenever I read ‘Kubl... Khan,’ or ‘The Charge of the Light Brigade’ I find myself imagining Coleridge strung out on opium or Tennyson combing his long wild beard like a baboon at the local zoo. After thumbing through a few chapters of Salem’s Lot, I think of Stephen King picking his nose. When Kay Scarpetta wraps up another mystery I think of Patricia Cromwell ordering. Main apne husband se khub chudwati hu lekin wo apne business me busy rahne lage the aur mujhe bhi chudwane ke liye naya lund chahiye tha. Main ab apne husband se jayada nahi chudwati thi hum dono log kabhi kabhi sex karte the to wo mujhe jaldi jaldi chodte the aur so jate the aur main apni chut ki khujli blue films dekh kar shant karti thi. Ek din main apne devar ko uski girlfriend ke sath baat karte huwe dekh li aur usse puchi to mujhe sab bata diya aur usne mujhe bataya ki wo apni girlfriend. She's mine!" And you," Helen said, pulling free of his aching arse, "are all mine now."She rolled her humiliated husband over easily, straddled his tear-strewn face and reached back to pull her ample buttocks apart for Frank to aim his hard cock at.Helen wiggled as she felt the huge knob sliding between her cheeks and said, "you can look, but you can't touch," to her husband who had been about to slide his tongue into her dripping cunt. He groaned with frustration as Elaine held his arms. She glanced at the clock one more time, just to make sure that it really was seven o'clock, but the red glowing digits on the night stand indicated that now it was seven-o- two and counting! She stretched out, trying to get the circulation moving through her body, and felt her white cotton bikini panties pressing hard against her bulging vulva. The mere pressure from the thin material was enough to flood her vagina with pussy juice, causing her to automatically slip her hand inside her undies.