”He grunts, appropriately enough. He’s just holding my hips and fucking his cock into me. I’m not even sure if he’s all there anymore. He’s ...efinitely not being considerate, just pounding me. It almost hurts, so I arch and straighten my back to change the angle until he’s hitting me just right. Wow.The video of that is amazing, we’re fucking like its the end of the world when he stops suddenly. I can feel him shooting into me. I’m so close. He thrusts hard once, stops, twice. I can feel his. The taste of cum and Ice Wine was an interesting combination. Thinking about this all now as I write, I feel dirty but also very excited. So where was I? Oh yes, washing down the cum of an older, fat, balding man with some yummy Ice Wine. I couldn’t believe what had just happened but, oddly, I took to being a slutty wife rather easily. I sat looking over at my husband who was snoring in the chair with his very shriveled up little cock peaking out of his pants. It was half the size of my new. She didn't have to have a university degree to know that this marriage was under stress. Although civil to each other there was no 'relationship' between husband and wife. There was no intimacy, like a touch, a smile or anything that would be considered 'a good marriage'. She had sucked him off but she knew men who were devoted to their wives, but wouldn't know back a quickie if the opportunity arose. However, this husband was different; he would seize that opportunity and couldn't give a stuff. I was sliding them in rythmically and she said, "more fingers" I hade three fingers plunged in her. I was grinding, three knuckles deep. She was lifting herself off the seat and fucking my hand. She started to cum. Her walls tightened around my fingers and I could hear her juices squirt. She didn't squirt, per se, but she did ooze from her pussy all the juices from her cum. "Sweet Jesus, I needed that," as she swiped the toilet paper to clean up her juicy pussy. I sat on the floor in shock. How.
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