Emboldened, the hand began stroking her knee. Then the inside of her knee. Her legs parting ever so slightly allowing him a little better access.‘Yo... fucking love it don’t you’ she heard. But this wasn’t Simon. This was another voice. The voice of the man behind her kneading her left tit.She felt a tug on the material. And the material gave way and she heard the faint clatter of buttons on the hard cinema floor.the flimsiest of black lace bras was all that kept her magnificent tits from being. She was still using her hands to gently massage my dick as she had done so many, many times before.It was not long before I felt that sensational of coming and I spurted my juice right down her throat. She gasped as I emptied my sack into her mouth. Then she swallowed my juice and looked up at me at the same time that I looked at her. I was shocked to see the blonde hair of who I thought was my wife but it was not her, it was my mother in law. The two of them looked very similar in appearance.. More

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