It was early Saturday evening, and I was in for the long haul at the music section of the bookstore. In no shape to deal with customers or my coworker...' insanities was I; five-thirty and I still felt hungover, having put away most of a bottle of Malibu at Lou's housewarming party the night before. But I got no sympathy. Customers seemed to speak louder than necessary on purpose, as if they knew my pain and wanted to torment me. My new coworker, Vaughn, I had no question about; he definitely. --- After we'd napped, then got dressed, ate dinner, then cuddled in front of the TV, it was finally time to go to bed. I was ecstatically anticipating further fun times with my daughter but did not want to presume, even given that she'd kind of promised more fun earlier that day. But finally it was she who suggested that we go to bed, and taking my hand in hers, walked me to my bedroom. We stood by my bed kissing for a long while, slowly removing each other's clothes. Once we were nude, she. It felt great when my wet finger touched my clit. I imagined that it was his tongue, teasing me, moving up and down and then getting in my hole. I rubbed it until I almost came. I stopped and I put the finger back in my mouth. I licked it again and felt the taste of my pussy. I sucked it and licked like it was a cock. It made very horny and I really wanted to have a real cock inside me to fill my cunt. I pulled the bikini on one side with one hand and my wet finger from the other one got deep. Although you may want to please him, it's also a matter of elementary justice. You deserve to be a hotwife. You have been at his side for years, encouraging him to make more money, telling him how to dress, pointing out his faults, doing more than your share of the housework, telling him pointless stories in endless detail about people he does not know. He should love you above all other women and want you to be happy. Naturally, his pathetic recent attempts to "make love to you" (when you need.