I can feel the familiar trickle of arousal on my leg as I think about it. I don’t care about the photograph of your boring wife you keep in your wal...et. Yeah, I’ve seen it. Forget about her, she can’t do the things to you that I can. You know those moments when you look at me, and I’m sliding my pen in and out of my hot, little mouth? Well, I’m not attempting to work out the answer to your question. I’m pretending it’s your thick, meaty cock. I can almost feel it, if I close my eyes. I sweep my. I asked her would she like to drink anything. She said no. She wanted to freshen up and asked me the direction towards the bathroom. I guided her. She went in.After about a couple of minutes, she asked me for the soap, acting as if she hadn’t found it and expected me to come in. The moment I stepped in the bathroom and as I was about to give her the soap, Asha hugged me tightly saying it was just a reason. I too hugged her back tightly.As my colleague started unbuttoning my shirt, I asked her,. Nevertheless, she obediently did as she was told, presenting me with a fetching view of her derriére, with that delicious clump of auburn pussy hair sprouting and protruding from the back of her crotch.My wife stretched and strained to bend over, and, with straight legs, pushed her fingers to her toes. The muscles and tendons in her thighs rippled and twitched, and she displayed two delicate, white, concave hollows on the inside tops of her legs, filled with thick, wiry auburn locks of pubic. "That means you two too." she said.Surprisingly, both teens just nodded their assent. They knew what they had 'gotten away with'. They also knew what was likely to happen without those four players, and it sobered them.Chuck and Claire presided over a very quiet bed check that night. The news had spread. The night passed uneventfully, though all of them had a hard time getting to sleep and talked for several hours into the night in the darkened room.The next day the four players suited up, but.