“You are a lucky guy, cuckie… your wife is wet and ready…”He was right: Ana was writhing back and forth, enjoying his rude touch. And worst of...all, I could see her pussy lips glistening…“I am going to have a taste of that sweet peach.” He announced, as he started to kick off his boots, unbuckled his overall and removed the sweated shirt.I was shocked at the bulge bursting through his tight boxer. He climbed between my wife’s legs and Ana moved up her hips to meet his mouth. She was enjoying. "Was this a one-time thing?"Her words were asking if we could fuck again, but I sensed an undercurrent of feelings beneath it. Sasha had put up a good show last night, convincing me that all she wanted was a casual hook-up while telling me about how she was really a slut beneath her librarian veneer. It had all made a certain kind of logical sense; she WAS a stripper by profession, after all. And her admissions had made me more agreeable to the idea of actually fucking her, which I supposed was. More

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