With thighs agape and pelvis raised, Irene’s sweet sex was invitingly visible and available. Her arms rested by her sides, clammy palms flat to the ...edding. The ceiling fan barely disturbed the air. From the bedside radio came the sounds of chamber music, soft and relaxing. Irene needed to relax, needed to be soothed. She looked along her tanned body, between her breasts and over her slowly-undulating tummy, beyond the trimmed hair of her raised mound to her naked husband. Oliver was slightly. If he didn’t go through with it, then she certainly find one of her art students or one of her nude models to help her with her little dream. Shrugging his shoulders he decided he take her to John’s and hand his gambling buddy, one easy tally mark on his side of the notebook. Now the three of them were in John’s house, and his blonde lover was making his blood boil. His cock was begging to be fucked and his fingers were itching to dig into her pussy again. Her fingers had all ready opened up. More

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