‘It’s okay,’ smiled Alexandra, her face close to his. ‘This is a sexual research clinic, you can tell me anything. I’m assuming it was breas...s you masturbated over?’ Geoff nodded. ‘A real pair? A photograph? A memory?’ ‘A photograph,’ said Geoff. Alexandra tied a blood pressure monitor around his arm. ‘And who was the lucky lady in the photograph?’ ‘It was,’ Geoff gulped, ‘It was you, Dr Harding. ‘Is that so?’ Alexandra seemed neither offended nor surprised as she pumped up the arm band. ‘That. ‘Let’s be honest,’ said Ethan, ‘…she wouldn’t be able to fit her old, saggy fat arse in them these days.’ This comment only made Boston kiss Ethan harder, as he grabbed Ethan’s arse. With his wife and the old biddies chattering away downstairs, Boston liberally piped his hot spunk over his wife’s knickers, through Ethan’s shiny tights. Back in the present, Ethan gazed at Boston’s hard cock stretching his skin tight leotard. He ran his hands over Boston’s broad shoulders, and rested them around. More

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