One egg in the poacher, and I was sipping my first cup of coffee, the phone rang. It was Jon. ‘Hi, did you sleep good?’ ‘Yes, I had to take a pi...l.’ ‘Oh, I am sorry, are you OK?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘I read your stories.’ ‘All of them?’ ‘Yes, all of them.’ Silence, I felt the clawing at my chest, bubbles formed in my eyes. ‘Well?’ ‘You write very well,’ he told me. ‘I don’t think so.’ ‘I read Ted’s stories, too.’ ‘ALL of them?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘But he has 100 posted, that would take all night!’ ‘It did,’ he said,. Their lips and tongues met as Ana’s hands roamed over his body. I noticed my wife was looking aroused; but she did not seem to be moving towards her own orgasm. The bitch was just receiving her lover and enjoying him while giving as much pleasure as she could.For his part, the black guy was enjoying himself and Ana’s body.They kept up their unhurried rhythm for several minutes, until that lucky bastard groaned and started to speed up. Anita wrapped her long legs around his muscled thighs and. More

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