The truth of it was that I ached for my mother's body, whilst not being other than that of a normal woman in her late thirties, it still had curves in...all the right places albeit, with a little surplus fat. Whenever I masturbated, it was her body that I stroked, licked and at climax, entered.Claire:The incident in the kitchen unsettled me. My husband is a serial adulterer and it was some time since he had come near me and indeed, I no longer wished him to do so, as I forcefully pointed out to. Finished, Annette got out of the tub and dried herself. She lightly ran the towel up and down her sleek skin, over her tits, down her belly, up between her thighs, down between her luscious ass cheeks. As the towel contacted her clit, Annette had an urge to finger-fuck herself again. It was only with supreme difficulty that she resisted the urge, consoling herself with the thought that tonight she would most likely have a stiff cock to play with that would more than likely be fucked into her. He contemplated bringing a pair of heels to wear someday so that he could hear that wonderful "click" as the spike struck the concrete of the workshop with each stride. But, he felt that was too risky. If he were discovered it could ruin everything. So he continued his extreme discretion.This particular night the private bathroom attached to his office was being repaired and so he went to use the employee bathroom down the hall. Martha had forgotten to turn off her computer, how many times did. "True. It just lacks that inherent lived in feeling," the first voice agreed from the bed. "But then again, you're not actually among the living anymore." Excuse me?" the second voice exclaimed."Oh, pardon my manners," the first voice apologised mockingly. "You're dead."#TMAoJW#"What do you mean, I'm dead?" the second voice practically screeched. "How can I be dead if we are both in my bedroom?" I thought you just said this wasn't your bedroom," the first voice said snidely. "You really should.
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