“I’m fine, Abigail, okay?”“Sam, I’m nervous too, probably more than you,” she said. She’d found me out.“Yeah, maybe,” I said, “or ...aybe not.” She was eyeing me and looking—suspicioous.“Sam, last week when I visited you; well, I did it to kind of clear the decks so that we could go forward and begin doing things rightly. Know what I mean?” she said.“Yeah, I guess,” I said. “But can I ask, what does your husband think of all of this? He and I didn’t talk a lot at the barbecue. And you didn’t say. Smith.“Five! Four! Three! Two!”I looked directly into Mrs. Smith’s eyes and let go. Hot piss poured out of me like a waterfall immediately soaking my thong. Mr. Smith saw the wet spot on my leggings just before he counted one. I heard Mrs. Smith whimper as he yanked his cock out of her, leaving her hovering just short of an earth-shattering orgasm. She plunged her hands between her legs trying to finish the job, but Mr. Smith grabbed her hands and held them at her side.The relief I felt finally. More

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