Do what? Make me feel like a slut? To make me shed my prudish mien? To force me to see myself as something sexual? Something other than a baby-making,...frumpy old housewife?Panic crept in as I neared the store. Flipping on the directional, I swerved my car into a severe U-turn. Cars around me honked. Wheels squealed. Drivers cursed -- I think they did anyway. It's hard to tell since my windows are raised. The turn completed, and my car firmly positioned in traffic, I headed for home. The safety. A loud cry escaped my lips at the impact. He gave me a moment to adjust to his size and the feeling of being so full. He then started moving his hips, gliding his cock in and out, slowly at first, but building up speed and force in no time. I dragged my hands through his hair, tugging gently as we found our rhythm. I was matching him thrust for thrust. Our moans filled the room. My body was going crazy with sensation, as his hands slid over every inch of me. I continued working my fingers. More

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