I looked in the mirror. I really didn’t need a bra. Even at thirty seven my tits were still perky. The dress was short. It only came to the middle o... my thighs. I slipped on a pear of white panties. I took one last look in the mirror. I thought to myself. “For a mother of an nineteen year old son, I still looked good. I know my husband still likes what I look like. He tries to fuck me at least five times a week.” I heard the car horn.I ran downstairs, closed and locked the front door and headed. They must have agreed to the kissing and hugging some days earlier. Her not wearing panty meant that she had come prepared to give him a clear indication that she had come to be fucked. As my MD’s hand went down over my wife’s pelvis, he also realized that she was not wearing any panties. He whistled excitedly and my wife crossed her legs and tried to hold his hand and stop it from going down further on to her exposed womanhood. Last minute modesty was not going to save anything and my MD. More

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