Her body shook as if she was having a seizure. As she shuttered, he pushed himself as deep inside her as he could. His body convulsed with each shot o... hot cum. Her orgasm seemed to last close to a minute, as did his. He had done it. D had shot his virile load deep inside my wife's fertile womb. My mind was swimming, thinking of just how much of his sperm he had planted deep with in her. He had cum for so very long. How much cum had he deposited? Did it fill her womb? Was she ovulating? FUCK!. And again. Heart racing again. It only takes a second with him. My body responds. What is it about him? He has this instant on switch hidden somewhere and flicks it every time we are together. We roll over with him on top. We continue to make out. This time he reaches under my shirt and lifts my shirt and bra in one motion. I protest and he does the same with the other bra cup. I now am exposing my breasts to him. This is wrong. This is a mistake, because I will not be able to stop. He sucks. Well before today’s confabulation of privilege, there were people like DSK. People born so rich, that they become socialists. So connected that they can’t be contained by the limits of their ideology. Like their names, they need hyphens to append additional bivouacs of control to their core ideology: Socialist-plutocrat. I suppose in earlier times they were just plain aristocrats. Now that’s real privilege. I shouldn’t be too judgy of DSK though, because I’ve also known the temptation of a. Her slightly plumped tummy enjoyed my tracing fingertips and licks of my tongue. I played with the hair on her mound, occasionally reaching down to strum her clit. I enjoyed edging the ladies, something few men took the time to do. I stroked her calf up to her thigh as I gently placed her leg on my shoulder, opening her cunt for me. She became undone as I buried my face in her furry cunt. Any remaining decency abandoned her as she squealed dirty words - words no lady, not even a whore should.