Its scotch and ice. We start chatting and drinking. I notice your eye frequently staring at my crotch. Your husband notices it too. I pour you another...stiff drink. Suddenly your husband suggests that we play strip poker. “No..” you say, blushing. “oh come on dear you never lose, so why are you scared.” your husband laughs. You agree reluctantly. I realize the two of you are horny, but I am not sure about your intentions. Involuntarily my cock gets rock hard in anticipation of the out come. By. Instead, she just grinned. And looked at me. Once again I found myself staring into her eyes, my mind running a tape of imagery, mostly scenes of her in various stages of undress.“A penny... ?” she said.“Pornographers earn more than that,” I countered.Wide eyed, she said. “Oh! One of those thoughts, eh?”“Only since you showed up.” I explained myself.Jesus! What in hell was I doing here? I was talking like some horny teenager trying to score points with the high school cheerleader. I was. More

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