"How long until we get to his hotel?" my wife asked. I checked my GPS, "about twenty-five minutes," I answered."I can't wait that long, Mark get back ...ere NOW!" she demanded. Reluctantly, Mark stopped licking and sucking her feet and crawled over the console, into the backseat of the car."Lick my pussy," my wife said.Mark happily obliged.She scooted over, leaning up against the side door, spreading her legs. Mark leaned forward, burying his face in her soaking wet pussy. My wife was moaning. She wields it like a weapon. It hijacks half my brain along with half the conversations in the restaurant. I stand up and wave Jessica over. She flashes me a giant smile before picking her way between the tables. Conversations slowly resume themselves around us.As she approaches, her outfit comes into sharper focus. Her dress appears to be made of elasticized cotton, bright white and tastefully tight. There is some kind of crisscross, woven pattern layered over the underlying fabric, lending. More

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