In front of me, my husband sat in a chair with his pants and fruit of looms bunched around his ankles. His only movement was his right hand massaging ...is stiff five inches of manhood.A tear snaked its way down the front of my suntanned cheek. I felt guilty; however, my tear revealed years of frustration being released. A desire hidden deep in my subconscious for some twenty years of marriage now lay bare. To my astonishment, my husband was easily accepting the reality that I was Devonte's. We were both in an alcohol and music fueled erotic state that could only lead to one conclusion. When we got out the door we both became intoxicated by the cool air. We both laughed like c***dren as we headed back towards the car. We held hands, swinging our arms in exaggerated motions and giggling all the way. It was fun. We were adults. We were entitled to every moment. When we arrived at her car we were like k**s. We giggled as she opened the car and suggested we put the top down. "I rented. More

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