So it was only just gone eleven when I let myself in. I was slightly surprised that my nineteen-year-old son, Ethan and his girlfriend weren’t still...up watching Netflix. Phil, my husband, was working a night-shift doing maintenance on the Underground so I knew that I wouldn’t have a warm bed to snuggle into so set about pouring myself a glass of wine as a nightcap before heading up the stairs.I texted Wendy to say I’d made it safely home and looked out across the back garden bathed in moonlight. Her hand continued to move up and down, the slight motion making her tits sway. His head tilted back, and he pushed her face downward. She knew what he wanted, and her hot mouth engulfed his manhood. She ran her tongue up and down his shaft, working her red lips around it, lubricating it with her mouth, smearing her lipstick on its length. I had been holding her ankle, running my hands along and over her ankle and foot and calf, but had to let her go so she could blow him. My cock was. More

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