Even now when I write about that night, my penis starts to swell angrily… It was a rainy night. I was driving from work to home, totally stressed ou... after a long day. As it is my wife was at her parents place in another city, gone to write her post graduate exams, which added to the frustration of going to my own house and living alone for few weeks. It was all the more stressful to drive in the pothole filled roads overflowing with rainwater. Few miles before my house, my car’s headlights. His hands slid beneath her thin top, his palms taking her heavy breasts and pushing them together, "Your tits," he grunted as his pelvis mashed against her sensitive clit, "They're so perfect." She thrust her hips in unison with his, squirming as she felt an orgasm begin to build as she felt the rough denim brush against her little nub - her panties might as well have not been on. He pushed her top up and unhooked her bra with expert fingers. Her breasts slipped free from her bra cups, now. Yes, things were very different here. It took her a couple of minutes to figure out how to get the metal cap off of the bottle, and in that time the bell over the grocery store’s door jangled as a young girl emerged carrying a small brown paper bag. Crystal froze as she immediately recognized the familiar face of her mother, though thirty-some-odd years younger, and the fact that she was indeed uncomfortably pregnant. The girl never even looked at her as she crossed the street in front of. I wasn't aware of it at the time, but it was like Stacy was slowly coming out of her sex-induced fog. She knew how badly I wanted to just touch her body. Then, like an alarm clock went off in each of our brains, we thought the same thought. For the first time since Bill had left almost two hours ago, there was that devilish smirk on her face. I took her glass of wine as she handed it to me. I set it on the nightstand. I crawled onto the bed between her legs. Stacy's knees were up and her.
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