He pulled off his top, then pushed down the bottoms, making sure I got to appreciate his smooth, slender nudity. He climbed back onto the chair and st...addled me, starting to undo the buttons of my shirt. I didn’t have the strength to stop him. Once he’d gotten it open, he moved down and undid my belt and pants, then pulled them down, revealing the sticky mess of my underwear. He pulled those off too, and ran a hand over my semi-limp penis, smearing cum. He took me into his mouth, his tongue. "Nope. I like this one." Okay, I'm happy to just share a meal with my beautiful wife."Being his wife was only a technicality, since she hadn't fallen in love with Bob at that time; if she had, she would never have settled for anyone else. No one but Bob would do.They sat together and Misha invented and spun a tale about a false day at the office; she listened as Ken spoke about his day, but didn't care. She kept him as long as she could in the kitchen before he went for his shower. Misha. Which was difficult when so many other things were on my mind as each time I closed my eyes the memory of my Mother kneeling at my feet with my ever-ready boner in her small hands flashed before me.At least three times had turned out to be actually three times by the end of the day and my well-pumped penis had been given an expert workout as we became more comfortable with the decisions we had made. The most important one being that my Mother would take care of business.I turned to her as. It was a black Audi Q7. The windows were tainted so she had to roll the window down for me to see who is inside it. And there she was, like an Angel sitting on a car seat, with sunglasses on. I walked up to her and said, “Hey, Hi. You came on time. Very punctual.”“Well, I had to. Didn’t want you to get late for the night”, said Angela.By this time, my mind had 100 different things going on in it, deciding what she meant by this statement. So, to clear my confusion, I asked her what she meant by.