From all these, I managed to find out that my mother wore only cotton briefs of various colors.My mother normally did the laundry at home and her bras...and panties were always hung in my parents' bathroom, away from prying eyes. Thus before this, I had never even seen a glimpse of what they looked like. Many times, mom had tried to persuade me to do the laundry at home, but I had refused because I was too lazy. It almost seems fated, the day I smelt my first pair of panties. My parents were. The sound of Mr. Torres' gruntsmixed with my wife's guttural screams and moans. The look of my wife'slips wrapped around his cock...the sound as she bobs back and forth, acouple days ago, abject fear of the pain if I stopped bobbing back andforth on the perch, my red lipstick smeared on her cock...my red lipsticksmeared across our picture, marking time. My wife's beautiful calf, herbeautiful foot...rubbing Mr. Stanton's huge foot, thick massive calves.My wife's stocking foot, rubbing my. ”Lying back on the sheets, I gulped in air as my chest heaved. “Put it in, Jacob.”Less than a foot away from me, he slid the first drawer back and forth in the slot, trying to align the wheels. I sat up again and spread my legs. My pussy wanted more.“Push it.” My vibe was buzzing. “Be gentle.” My clit was thumping. “A little harder. Oh, it’s going in.” “Honey, you are too much,” he chuckled. He kept fiddling with the drawer, which slowly complied with his motions.“That’s it. Just like that.. " She looked away, but I caught a hint of a grin. "Well, apples and oranges, right?" "How about you prove how fun you are." I cleared my throat. "Go get us a few beers." She laughed. "So much for taking it easy tonight." She glanced down at the pool again. "Or are you just trying to get rid of me so you can enjoy the view in private?" My pulse quickened. She wasn't really accusing me of...was she? Not that she'd be wrong to do so. But had I been so obvious about it? "Course not," I said without.