Anticipation mixes with each caressing stroke as the bristles slide softly over you. Each stroke of the brush luxuriates through your hair. Your hands...sit on the the table in front of you and a little dampness gathers under your palms. Your body is warm and your skin sparkles. The chair is forming a tiny puddle where you sit and we can both smell perfume. The brush rises to the top of your head and falls like water down your back. The brush rises to the top of your head and the pleasure washes. . ," I began."In his car, in the park, once in the little league field after a game!" wailed Sue. "Why the hell does it matter where we did it? Are you afraid that he fucked the hell out of me in our marital bed? Is that what's bothering your male ego? As if it matters where he fucked me with that incredible cock! Okay, we did it once or twice in our bed, goddamn your perverted sense of pride!"Now that was interesting. It looked like a small piece of ceramic or something was wedged into the. More

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