Lucille knew that her husband Peter was upstairs fooling around with her best friend Sally in the bathroom, but she was not in the least bit disturbed...because Sally’s husband Henry was under the kitchen table getting acquainted with her new French undies as she wrapped the sandwiches for the half day drive up from Arizona to the twenty four hour fuck-fest oasis in the desert. In a way, she was relieved that both her husband Peter and Sally’s husband Henry were more interested in things like. Every nerve in my body was on fire as you kissed my neck and ears. Feeling you pressed against me, your hard cock against my legs was almost too much for me. I was so wet, my jeans were soaked through and my panties were clinging to my clean-shaven lips. Breaking our embrace, my eyes locked on yours. You could see my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. My legs were like jelly as I pushed against the car to keep my balance. My hazel eyes danced in the light of the parking lot, your blue. More

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