As soon as he walked through the door at home, his wife started on him about, 'What time of night to be getting home is this? Where have you been? Din...er is cold and I'm not reheating it'. And on and on and on.Too shattered to play his usual role in this familiar ritual, he poured himself a shot of whiskey and headed off for a long hot soak in the bathtub, pursued by the predictable sarcastic remarks as he dragged himself up the stairs.While he was in the bath, the phone rang. The wife answered. Her large, softly rounded breasts shivered with each breath she took. The cups were decorated with a fringe of white lace that was worked into the front of the dress and flared out on the short, wide skirt into an apron. The white sleeves poofed out, outlining her slim, muscular arms. More lace bunched at the edge of the skirt, which reached barely to mid-thigh, and more lace seemed to be placed under the skirt, just barely concealing what lay beneath. Yvette’s smooth thighs were bare, but she. More

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