His free hand circles my waist and pulls me towards him. His body is angled to mine and his upper thigh presses against my cock, which is now uncomfor...ably hard in my slim jeans. For the first time, his face registers interest as his eyes widen slightly and one eyebrow rises."I hope you aren't exaggerating. I hate to be disappointed," he cautions. I don't respond. I'm certainly not used to being challenged on that question, I suppose because most of the boys here already know I'm. I bit my lower lip to keep from moaning in pleasure.Listening quickly to make sure no one else came in, I pulled wet thong down and stepped out of it. I sat down on the toilet seat, holding my panties in my left hand while using my fingers on that hand to hold my pussy lips open. I was dripping! I quickly buried two fingers on my right hand deep in my cunt, working them in an out and alternately pressing against my g-spot. The thoughts of my readers were in my head, and I was imaging them. Wilma’s hand was roaming all over mybreasts finally reaching my nipples, she was massagingand pinching them just like I do when I masturbate, shecontinued to tell me how beautiful I was as her handstarted to rub my stomach dipping under the waistbandof my panties just low enough to brush my pussy hair, apleasurable moan was my only protest.Wilma moved so I could lie down on the old mattresspositioning herself on all fours above me. “I’ve never… with another… girl. For that matter, unlike a lot of the stories you read on here, I would never let some guy fuck my wife. And if she were ever to screw around on me, I'd dump her in a New York minute.Me on the other hand, I'm you're typical male chauvinist pig. I can fuck around, and have... lots of times! I've maybe fucked nine or ten other woman over my 15 years of marriage. None of which I was in love with, to me they were just a piece of ass. Sandy knows about none of this. In her eye's I'm just your sweet.