I can see the door we fell through, kissing passionately – grabbing and removing each other’s clothes before it had even shut behind us. The wall ... pushed her against, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around me. Where I forced my eager cock into her tight wet slit. Ramming her hard and urgently. Her nails digging into my back. I can see where I tossed her on to her hands and knees on the bed, grabbed her hips and slammed her from behind – so deep, my hips slapping against her butt. Smiling. I pulled out quickly to see her come and my come dripping out of her into his eager mouth all the time still pulling his rock-solid cock and still without any contact being made. I told him to not touch and agreeing to this my wife crouched down just above his mouth and opened her sex for the stranger to lap up all the juices dripping out of her. This made her squirt all over his face and her feet which got me hard again and this was too much for him and he come all over himself. My wife stood. Out into dying heat and falling light. Across cobbles and into the back of a tram. Black bodice; purple voile; dark legs, the shawl wrapped around her head as if in confession. A sense of urgency. The end of the tram line met with a cable car, caught high on steel wire, swinging in growing breezes. Open, exposed, a frail bar to hold her, she got in, artfully matching its constant movement. She faced mountainside knowing he would follow her. The air grew colder, drying the dancer'sweat. Land. He stood by the window thinking, “I can just imagine what that lucky husband is doing right now to the bhabhi in the next room!” Leaning out the window to take in the view, he overheard a conversation from the adjacent window. “What the fuck is this place?” came a woman’s voice. “I don’t like the people here, so orthodox and low class…” A man’s replied, “Like it or not honey, that’s how it will be.” “That’s how much you care.” “That’s how much I can, with a wild cat like you for a wife.” “Then.