After thirty minutes or so, I stirred, got up, used the loo, and then opened the window. The music was still on, and I could hear noises; not talk, bu... noises in the living room. I wandered through to see if Jules had fallen asleep on the sofa after her boozy evening. They were her noises, guttural and deep. I pushed open the door and there they were, Jules sprawled on the sofa, legs wide apart, skirt round her waist, her firm luscious breasts out of their usual quarter cup bra, and her nipples. She's glad to have had her figure bounce back from each pregnancy she's had. In fact each time she would recover it seemed her daughters would bless her with favor from Aphrodite. Her ass would get rounder, firmer and thicker, whilst her soft teardrop watermelon tits got more voluptuously buxom.Still looking at herself, she can't figure out why Giuseppe ignores his beautiful wife and his loving daughters. Back in the day, she was her Italian Stallion but had grown into a fat, lazy, pathetic. Anne-Marie was 24 and had been born of a Belgian mother and a French father, and she had been brought up in a small town on the Belgian coast not far from Zeebrugge. They were a relatively wealthy family, her father was a local banker, and well known and respected in the area. After school she had not had to work and had stopped at home to help her ageing mother.In 1938 she had met a young German man named Wolfram, who was on holiday in Oostende. They had fallen in love, and despite her parents. "She turned her full attention to Jason. "Ready for some hot mouth honey?" Oh God yes." You got it honey" and she lowered her head and swallowed his cock. Dave still had his fingers in her pussy and she reached down, grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from her."Sarah, don't be that way." Fuck you Dave. He is my husband and he doesn't deserve what I'm doing to him. I'll be god damned if I'll let you call him names just because he is unlucky enough to have a whore for a wife." I'm sorry.