Ken just said thanks and downed his drink. Then his head flopped onto the back of the booth. The black guy came over, I thanked him for the drinks, an... he asked Kenif he could have a dance with his gorgeous wife. Ken was hardly in any condition to answer but I slid to the edge of the booth and said I would love to dance. My dress rode very high on my thighs as I exited the booth and I am sure he got a glance at my shaved pussy. The band was playing a fast song, I love dancing, this guy, his. Like our older cousins had spared us our hymens and left us with the decision to choose when and who we wanted to lose our technical vaginal virginity to, Hope and I would continue on pleasing ourselves in other ways than deep vaginal penetration. Although Hope did love a good anal stuffing, she begged for my tongue more often than not. I preferred my ass filled with well, what started with just fingers led to our imagination’s getting the best of us. We grew up together so showering together. This is the combination that together with Cleo's "G" spot would get for me a very explosive orgasm. Both my wife and I enjoyed this Cleo/Anthony thing. It made our vocals kind of natural to come out and our minds were away from asshole and dildo. My wife had become quite the master of sexual expressions and, I don't know, made our fantasy much much more real. So she began. Cleo, enjoying Anthony all deep in your body?? Having fun being fucked by your lover?? To which I would reply, - yes my. I recollected about how each time I loved saying I love you and how I wished I could have touched him just to show him how much. No matter how much I try to focus otherwise, that "impossible dream" we had talked about trying to accomplish together creeps into the forefront of my mind and takes over. It stirs so many emotions and makes my body react in ways I wish that would stop, but at the same time in ways, I wish to continue for an eternity. In a sad and sick way, it seems to be driving me. .