The coffee maker did not want to work until I hit it on the side a half dozen times, and once again I wondered what made me struggle with it each day....Habit I suppose, but that is my life. Habit after habit after habit. The chugging sound of the coffee maker drew me into silent retrospection. Why? Was it the habit of me that drove her away? The coffee maker chugged to a stop like an old car kept alive too long and I poured a cupful into my well-stained mug. Milk, two spoons of sugar, stir.. " I rolled onto my back and she immediately raised herself over me and lowered herself onto my cock.When it was over, for the second time, she said to me, "Harold will be back tomorrow night and he wants to know if we can get it on for him." Now I found that to be an intriguing question. To me, with my perverted mind, she was asking me to fuck her while her husband watched. My oh my, what had my brother gotten himself into. If what I was thinking was right, there had been some major changes in. More

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