“Yes, I do,” he grinned.I peeled off the t-shirt, my tits bouncing out. Frank licked his lips, his cock spasming. Life was returning. I couldn't w...it for my daily treatment. I slid my hands up, cupping my breasts and hefting them. Then I released, letting them bounce. His eyes followed them.“Perfect,” Frank groaned before patting his lap. “Just stretch out across me. You've been bad.”“So bad,” I moaned. The hunger in my husband's eyes made my pussy even wetter. I walked to the couch and leaned. I knew a guy who knew a guy at IRS ... let's just accept that most folks don't get a new SS number unless the law was involved. Lisa was in Colorado Springs running a boutique style thrift store. My mole told me that it wasn't doing too well, she'd had some trouble making her FICA deposits and a credit check turned up some delinquencies and lates.I hopped a plane with a cropped photo so I wouldn't make a mistake in identity and next day I walked into the shop. Sure enough, it was her and I. More

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