Not too surprisingly, it didn't take long as we stood there when someone came up from behind my wife, his or her hands reaching around to cup her pain... splattered breasts, traces of the paint just barely showing through fingers as they clasped each, squeezing and cupping them. I then felt someone myself, suddenly reaching behind me, beneath my legs, slowly starting to stroke my cock. And then someone else, kneeling below me, though at first I hadn't even realized it, they wore little if any. ." I started and he cut me off."No, it looks great on you," he said and then caught himself. "I'll, uh ... I'm going to clean up and then..." Okay," I nodded quickly and I realized he wanted a little privacy, which might have seemed odd after what we'd done the night before.I was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee in his button down dress shirt and nothing else. My thong had been a disaster, my dress as well and I'd washed them in the sink. So I was sitting in a man's kitchen, a. More

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