John wrapped one arm around Jamie’s waist and turned her sideways to him. He let his fingers slide through her swollen folds as he stared fixedly in...o the darkness of the trees. He could not see any movement. Had they left? What was his plan if they were still there? Did he want them to watch his wife play with herself?A tremor shook Jamie’s body as John leaned forward and wetly kissed her pussy. He did not really like doing that! Years ago, she had read stories about men who loved other men. She plants a sloppy kiss on my lips and I return it passionately. It's too hot to embrace and so we lie next to each other in the warm sand under the awning, feeling the breeze on our bodies as seabirds wheel in the sky above. *"We have to stop, I just heard the gang-plank go down!" Don't fucking stop," Isabella pants, "I'm so fucking close!"I grip her wide hips and hammer her harder, the thick hot-pink strap-on slamming deep into her again and again while underneath her fingers squirm against. "Whachawant?" she asked."Well, that's interesting," brother "Sam" said. His eyes followed the shapely waitress as she walked back to the kitchen.George slapped "Sam" lightly on the shoulder. "You're married to me, remember! Don't get any ideas!" he whispered to Grace.Grace laughed. "I'm not doing anything that you didn't do to me. Besides, what was it you once said, 'as long as I just look, it doesn't mean anything'?"George blushed, then stirred his coffee absently. "Yeah, something like. The tall oak closet, her cluttered dresser on the wall, and the smooth glass cased shelves, all leaked darker than midnight black. Marcella loved to lay with the shy and malformed shapes. If lonely, they were always there for you. In the corner of every room, beneath every bookcase and immaculate piece of decorum. They knew her every secret.The slow creak of footsteps found her head spinning to the source. It crept by her door slowly, stopped, and returned. It became two coy knocks at her.