We were taken to task for some of our more underhanded shenanigans.“Stuart,” dad said. “If it’s any consolation, that wasn’t the first time ...hat the dining room table was used for such purposes. Isn’t that right dear?”Mom blushed deeply, and replied, “You’re correct, John. Sarah, don’t be mad at Stuart for the blow job I gave him. He had no reason to think it wasn’t you.”Dad turned his head to react to what Mom had said, but she took him and kissed him, instead. “I’ll explain later, lover,” she. "And here!" I hold my breath as he continues to point with his index finger to different wet spots on my thigh. He is slowly inching closer to my now sopping wet pussy. I want him so badly. His poking finger touches the outside of my pussy and I release the breath I was holding. His fingers start to tickle the folds or my engorged lips. Now his other hand moves in and my pussy lips are being parted with one hand as the other hand inserts a finger. Pressing into me he moves it around, curls it. More

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