”“What do you mean, Cindy, you don’t want to fondle myass?” asked Ted in mocking despair.“I didn’t say that,”... replied Cindy as she walked aroundthe table, placed her palms squarely on my husband’sbutt, and slowly rubbed it.I felt a little tingle in my pussy as I watched herhands pass over and over my husband’s tight ass. Sheeven ran her fingers along the crack down toward hisballs.“There, that should be about 30 seconds,”. Hey, look at me, I'm naked again. Concentrate on me. Give me a little help here, though."He's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, so it took a minute for him to catch on and raise his arms so I could drag the shirt off over his head, his shaggy locks fluttering around his face in a blizzard of dandruff. I held the shirt out blindly, trusting one of my bunch to take the hint, and sure enough Fran was right there, handling it like it was toxic waste, but handling it.My participation created a. More

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