I smiled and kissed her cheeks.We both were sweating and when she raised her arms I started kissing her armpits over her dress. Her smell made me mad ...nd I bit her boobs. She immediately started to unbutton her dressand in the meanwhile I was licking her feet and moving towards her thighs. Oh make me cum, my husband never fucks me, I am dying to get fucked like a whore.I held her face and kissed her dark lips which was covered with maroon lipstick. I could taste the lipstick and her saliva. We. I wept again, this time for joy, and she held me as I wept. I cannot say that I was much of a lover that night. I was half out of my mind with grief and loneliness, and it was she who was guiding me, and not I guiding her. I can only remember cumming with alarming speed, without taking much cognizance of what her state of arousal was. I was not making love as a sane man should, but as a man drowning in turbulent waters, desperate for a helping hand. She didn’t climax, but she said that it was. More

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