I still wanted him. in that basement. with the lights low. everything new. when i talked to him all the old feelings would emerge. i didn't know if i ...hould tell him at first, but couldn't deny it. when i talked to him, i would touch myself. getting wet, i'd ask him personal questions. did he touch himself last night? yes. (getting more excited) did he fuck his wife that morning? yes. (more wet) i could feel myself breathing harder thinking about him with her. touching her. fucking her. this. ..as if she was giving me the perfect entertainment...like scoring a backstage pass.It was like her booty was a balance to her huge now unseen hooters. So spherical, so smooth, with a slight wobble that had me licking my lips. I was imagining rimming my own step-sisters arsehole. The one hole I couldn’t clearly see. Geez the smut a mind generates even with delicate ferny frondy pink labia getting petted by long elegant fingers. I was male though and I wanted it all.Her moans intensified. So. More

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