I knew the feeling and kept my eyes locked on the rhythm of his butt. The thought entered my mind that I wanted him to fill her up so I could lick and...suck them both clean. The taste of cleaning Peter's cum out of my wife tasted no different than my own. I gave no thought as I cleaned him, as I was being mindful of the sensitivity of his head after just cumming. I was surprised that such thoughts came to my mind, but what surprised me, even more, was how aroused the thought made me. Looking. I really did not need a fourth glass of wine. Two, sometime three, is my usual limit. But I did not want this evening to end. So I poured myself my last nightcap. Greg followed me into the kitchen and poured another double scotch rocks. We returned to the balcony, "Wendy, I have a bit of a confession," Greg said as we stepped back on the balcony. "And what might that be?" I asked cautiously. "You know what you said earlier, about what you used to think about when you masturbate?" I felt my. More

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