Hillary was nervous. She fidgeted and wiggled and I gently grasped her hand that was struggling to remove the slippery cucumber from her pussy. “Hil...ary, what’s wrong?” She strained to swallow and said, “I don’t want to cum yet.” “So don’t,” I said, pulling the slick vegetable from her pussy. It hit the ground and Hillary started to close her legs when she said, “I want it in my bottom.” I smirked, my new favorite expression, and eagerly replied, “Okay.” I pulled on her closest leg and she. I was pretty certain that she had enjoyed the dance as much as I had. She disappeared back into the cedar closet, but didn’t come out in another outfit. I became worried that I had embarrassed her, maybe moving my hands a little too far when we danced. I went into the closet to apologize. She was standing in front of the drawers that were built into the end of the closet. My wife’s lingerie chest. My heart stopped! I had forgotten all about it and what was in the bottom drawer, and I. More

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