My fingers had gotten all the way up to her panty.Bhabhi was soaking wet and when I stroked my fingertips up and down the grove she pressed her cunt h...rd against them. I could feel Bhabhi’s hips jerking as I stroked her thru her panty. Her breathing was coming in gasps. “Yes Bob! Make me cum. Push your fingers inside me. I need you so badly it hurts. I pushed the soaked crotch of her panty aside and my fingers stroked her slit. Her juices were thick as my fingers stroked up and down her. But then again, I attended so many funerals as a child that they all seem to run together. What little I can piece together of this man was in keeping with the pictures I saw of my great grandfather. He was thin with short grey hair and an easy smile. And he adored his unusual wife…worshipped would perhaps be a better word. It is often hard for us to imagine our parents or our grandparents as sexual beings with needs, desires and love like our own. But not when you saw Mr. Willy look at his. More

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