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Ben silently mouthed the words "Thank you." and John blushed, pleased to be so helpful. Still being quiet, John grabbed his dirty underwear and left the room. He made breakfast for the three of them, during which he heard screams and grunts coming from the room. He smiled, knowing his wife was again being thoroughly dicked like a high-class whore. All three are breakfast and then said their goodbyes."You know you're welcome anytime." Tiffany said, as the three of them stood at the doorway, Ben fully dressed, and Tiffany and John only in panties. "Thank you both so much." Ben said. "I only get over this way every couple of months, but I'd love to repeat this excursion each time I'm in town." Like my wife said...anytime." John replied."And I was thinking. Maybe a good way to not lose touch would be to text you both regularly. Would that be okay?" We would adore that!" Tiffany said with delight."And maybe something fun would be to occasionally give John a variety of gay assignments that. The closer I got to her pussy the stronger the aroma became. The aroma didn’t smell like my wife’s but it wasn’t an unpleasant smell. I rested my lips in her hairy muff and as Nancy applied more pressure on my head she pleaded for me to lick her pussy. Nancy removed her hands from my head and placed them slightly behind her body on the desk and moved her legs wider.Without warning I plunged my tongue into her pussy and her body began to quiver as she lifted her hips off the desk.“Oh god that feels so good. Don’t stop. Make me cum in your mouth.” Nancy squealed as she tried to fuck my tongue.I plunged my tongue in and then move it from side to side and then slid it up and down. Even though my senses were on overload I was keenly aware of her clit as it was now exposed to my mouth. Nancy was bucking against my face now, panting and grunting.“I’m close to coming. Suck my clit. Make me cum in your mouth.” Nancy screamed.Just as Nancy’s orgasm hit I sucked her clit into my mouth. What.
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He pulls out and drives. When he drops me off at my place he stops the car and waits for me to get out. I try to hesitate. ‘Can we at least talk about…?’ I try because it’s Ben and he’s the most important thing in the world to me, no matter how stubborn he can be. ‘I have that client in four hours…’ he trails off and examines his nails. ‘Fine, Ben. Call me if you decide to stop being an ass, but not before then, ‘kay?’ I slam the door and it squeals. He drives away quickly. I sit for quite awhile in the porch swing we shared for so many summers and angry, frustrated tears burn my eyes. It’s an ugly feeling and I can’t help hating Ben for making it happen. He doesn’t call for five days and I can’t remember how long it’s been since we hadn’t spoken to each other at least every other day. I stare at the phone and hate it, hate him, hate myself. I do angry housework which pleases my mother to no end. I study but retain nothing I didn’t already know. I try to write and all that comes out.

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