He grabbed me by the throat and pushed me back against the tiled wall of the public shower.Then his tongue was in my mouth, kissing me hard, there was...a hint of violence but it was one hundred percent pure pent up sexual frustration. The Married Guy usually isn't into much kissing but we were sucking face and our cocks were grinding against each other.Breaking off our kiss, he dropped to his knees and ripped my speedos down to the ground; the drawstring was still done up but he just ripped them. He knew. Oh god… "Shall we take a look? Shall I remind you of what you've done?" He picked up a remote and looked across at a pedestal with a monitor and Blu-ray player on top of it. He pressed a button and the screen came to life. A hotel suite, sumptuously furnished, appeared in the background. A lush queen-sized bed with gold sheets filled up most of the room. A gorgeous brunette knelt on those golden sheets, on her hands and knees as she faced the hidden camera. She was naked, her breasts. We drove for a bit, debating why we should go to his apartment (me) and why we shouldn't go to the apartment (him). Finally, I explained to him that the Playboys and the underwear on the floor were not going to disturb me and he relented. It was only a ten-minute drive, but it seemed like hours. All I wanted to do was kiss him, touch him, lick his body, and pretty much anything else he wanted me to do. I was hopelessly, uncharacteristically hooked.One of the first few days we were together. Jimmy’s mom was no longer hesitant. She wasn’t stinting on effort this time. She spread Indhira’s labia and her tongue delved in. I could see that the little Indian woman was wet, extremely wet, and that Gina was doing her best to lick up the moisture.“Make her orgasm, Gina,” I said.Ravi’s mom spasmed when Gina’s tongue hit her clitoris. With her hands tangled in Gina’s hair, Indhira yanked the woman tight against her pussy. Gina continued to work on Indhira’s clit. Indhira spasmed again, Gina.