She obviously spoke French initially but reverted to English once she knew who we were, even though I could converse, but thankfully, my poor husband ...ould not.He was taken aback with her, even I could see that, so I asked her in French for the sex toys department and to get there with some fun on the way, and thankfully, she cottoned on to what I was getting at, so she told me to go down the rows of explicit videos where I might see men tugging themselves, past some booths where some. Her inner folds are so wet and hot, and she moans, as I slide my fingers up to het clit and back down to her hot little honey hole. I move down, kissing her stomach, licking the side of her hip and move until my head is between her legs. I nose is so close to her pussy and her sex smells soooo good. I look up at her and she is looking back at me, with her one finger in her mouth, waiting for my tongue to lash her pussy. I take my hands and pull her puffy lips apart, and her back arches a little. How could this be turning me on? Bert has fucked my wife. Mad as hell, I told Bert "get the fuck out and don't come back." Never saw him again. Later that evening, I decided to confront Jodie. Bert had told me the motel name and some of the lovers she had meet there. She was sitting on the sofa when I walked up in front of her and told her what I knew. By the time I finished talking the bluge in my pants could not be hidden. She saw it too and put her hand on my prick and gently rubbed up and. Although it was just for a few seconds, it made an impact. I started fantasizing her almost every day. So much so that I was taking pics of hers, morphing them and jerking off. I would drop things on purpose so that she would pick them up and I could catch a glimpse of her cleavage.It had been two years since she started giving me wet dreams and I still hadn’t got a chance to screw her or even view her naked. A week later, she called my mom and told that she had been transferred to Bangalore.