She pulled out, pushed two fingers of her right hand into a sort of a point, and eased them onto his ass. He pushed toward her. Both fingers slid in u... to the second knuckle. She gasped but stopped.“No,” he insisted, “don’t stop. Deeper.”She slid them in all the way up to her palm.“Fuck me,” he whispered. She slid the fingers in and out, slowly building a rhythm. Out. Rub his ass hole. In. Curl those long skinny fingers up toward his prostate. Then she started moving faster and harder. Pushing. “Baby, I love that monster you’ve got in your pants. I want it in me again. Check us out any way you want, then email me again, okay?” He agreed. Mostly convince now of their sincerity. But…check them out. She ran her fingertips over her tongue, laid them on Anson’s hand lying beside his glass. “You can be my Toy if you want. John gets to watch. When his Toy is there, I get to watch. I’m his whore and we’ve been married for thirty years now.” “And I’m her whore,” John smiled back at. More

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