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My God, am I glad I’m going to be getting rid of him.’ As she was talking, Ruthie pulled off her dowdy, shapeless dress and looked at it in dista...te. ‘This came from a rummage sale yesterday,’ she told me. ‘He thought I needed something new to wear to the funeral and this was his idea of new.’ She tossed the offending dress aside as if she never wanted to see it again. Since her husband always wanted her to be ‘decent’ Ruthie was wearing heavy cotton stockings, a slip, an industrial-strength. Her hands rode back and forth across the shaped erection that pushed against his trousers.She then undid his trousers, unzipped and pulled them down as she dragged them like a mad woman off his legs and tossed them to the floor.His cock was forcing his boxers to stretch, as she looked at it. Her tongue licked around her lips, in anticipation of not only having it fucking her tight, wet cunt, but to taste it in her mouth also.She grappled with his boxers for a moment, before she pulled them down. More

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