The pastel-colored furniture I remember has been replaced with contemporary designs, light wood and brushed stainless steel. There are no more Duran D...ran or George Michael posters on the wall; instead, it is painted in a pleasant shade of light yellow. For all its Ethan Allen-furnished appeal, the room no longer looks like someone lives here. The only sign of disorder is a large purple nylon travel bag that is sitting half-opened on the floor, and a small pile of clothes piled up next to it.. “I need you... please...” I felt a light touch on my arm as my over-fucked wife reached out towards me. Her voice was low and dreamy, almost drunk but she was looking straight at me in the low light and smiling. “Are you sure? You look pretty sore already?” I whispered, taking her stroking fingers in mine. “I need you make love to me... just be gentle...” Without another word, I climbed onto the bed and knelt between her still-spread legs, my cock fully erect. I leaned over her, my weight on my. More

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