" She said as she popped my cock out of her mouth and began to slap her cheek with it. She then whispered something so softly that all I could make ou... was the word, "secret." "Fuck! Stop talking cunt and lick my balls." I propped myself up on my elbows and looked down at the tosseled and blonde-streaked hair of my wicked wife—her eyes, just slits of lust as her nose grazed the underside of my rigid pole. She was doing as I said, she had my balls in her mouth---sucking, savoring, running her. The place from the outside had mirrored windows, cracked yellow paint, and little love hearts on the door. I came to the place early-about midday, as my cock was really hard and anxious after an hour or so watching girls being buggered in a porn cinema. The bell tinkled weakly and miserably, and the door opened almost immediately. There was Raluca, about 19/20, smoking a long thin pencil cigarette. She was dressed in a thin housecoat and seemingly nothing else. She looked me up and down and. More

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