The young guy moved immediately to my wife’s pretty breasts and started massaging them and rubbing her nipples, Martha was getting more and more aro...sed and we could now hear her making a little louder moans as he continued to massage her.He took one of Martha's hands and placed it on her tit and started squeezing her hand so that she was actually playing with herself and once she was doing this on her own he moved his hand down to her bush and started playing there. She was so hot that she. I feel his furry thighs against my own, and feel his scrotum gently resting against my rump.“See, my child? That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” He asks of me, either in concern or in mockery, though I couldn’t tell which.“H-h-how do you fit?” I stutter, “That monstrous thing couldn’t possibly fit in me.”“It’s just the right length, ma’am. It always is.”Before I can even ponder the meaning of that statement, I feel him begin to pull back and his incredible width slide out of me, taking my breath. His hand swept the wet hair out of my face slowly and tilted my head to look at him. His soft looks melted my heart. He leaned in and our lips touched ever so slightly. My heart was racing. His hand grabbed the top of my towel and slowly slid it off my body. I sat there in shock as he kissed me gently. Every move he made was so soft, graceful, and it drove me crazy. I just wanted to get rough and jump on him, but he was holding me back, making me take things slow. His hand slid down my back. Anna was at the end of her twenties, pale-skinned and dark-haired, with a lithe, slender frame. Her dark eyes were off-set by a crimson blossom of lips, giving her a "Snow White-gone-bad" sort of look. I had made the decision to marry her within seconds of meeting and had never looked back. Combined with her striking appearance was a terrific intelligence, and a knowledge of literature that most academics would yearn for. The winter in Scotland was grey and dismal and I had bought tickets to.