What are you up to, my dear?''I'll get Stanislous organised with painting the shed and cutting some logs, then I'll sort out the correspondence. I may...have a lie down this afternoon. I've not been sleeping too well.' Mrs Grandage, who had slept like a top in the bedroom next to her husband's - an arrangement she had insisted on for over a year now, having professed a need to escape from his snoring - told the lie with such innocence. ' Where is Stanislous now?', she inquired rising from her. I rubbed her slit tentatively with my left hand while smearing a drop of pre-cum over my purple head. As I moved a single step closer, her pussy lips smiled at me and then I sank balls deep inside her heated cavern. Starting off slowly, I relished her wet folds surrounding me. As I languorously shafted her with long deep strokes, I could feel her gripping me, milking me for my cum. “Please,” she urged me, “If I wanted somebody to make love to me I would have asked my lousy fucking husband to. More

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