I just above her shoulders so she was looking at herself. I got up behind her and holding her waist I began to kiss her neck, while looking at her in ...he mirror and my right hand rubbing her soaking pussy and flicking her clit and I inserted my tool between her legs and rubbed it across her soaking pussy. She loved this and wanted me to stick it in her straight away, but I teased her and parted her pussy lips with the head of my shaft slightly. She was sighing and I could tell that her husband. Whom have they left behind? Is there some sweet little grandmother somewhere gazing up into the stars like Me? Is she remembering when she was a young woman letting her dress slip to expose a soft rounded shoulder and the upper swell of her breast? Is she remembering her girlish attitudes and how with a simple flick of lowering her silk strap how naughty she appeared? Is she perhaps smiling knowing that she dared to live as she wished, not allowing fear to dictate her lifestyle? I wonder how. More

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