Crimson was only wearing a very thin, flimsy, lycra g-string and a thigh high pair of fence-net stockings. The diamond pattern complimented her thick...legs nicely. She could feel Chris's cock pressing against her pussy and every now and then she would grind herself against it. He was as hard as iron. She knew that fucking him would be like impaling her pussy on a railroad spike. Chris's hands were all over her, caressing and massaging her tits, gently tugging on her nipples, running his. One less thing to worry about, leaving two more at the top of that list. The well being of my wife and our Welsh Border Collie.Opening the front door, answered the latter. Trillian, our dog, came bounding to the door, happy to see me. Yes, we named the dog after the character from Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy. For the record my previous dog, back when I was in high school, had been called Zaphod.My wife wasn’t home. I knew that when the taxi pulled up, given her car wasn’t in the driveway. More

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