I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of champagne, and we took it in turns to swig from the bottle, I felt free, the relief was almost tangible... it was brilliant, absolutely fucking brilliant."Wait," I shouted, and he looked at me in alarm. I'd suddenly realized that I was wearing designer jeans, I think they cost about two hundred pounds, my blouse must have been about a hundred, the shoes at least ninety, even my bloody bra had cost about fifty pounds, and if I remembered rightly, my. At moments like this I cursed the condition which had rendered my wife barren.Still, I thought, as I eased my softening cock from my wife's pussy, there was a willing daughter down the hall – possibly two, though I would fuck only Rachel – if she was willing, and only until she reached menarche. I suspected my wife – my kinky wife – might encourage Rachel and me to continue fucking even after Rachel could be impregnated, with a view to increasing the size of our family still further, but the. More

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