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“Collector?” she asked somewhat confused, but a light soon appeared in her eyes.“Certainly not, these are all functional,” she assured me with...a smile. “But they are not all that I own. These are the ones with memories,” she continued stroking a particular dagger with care.“There is something that I need to tell you. Promise that you won’t laugh,” she asked, moving very close to me. Close enough that I could feel the heat coming off of her and smell her sweat. My most ancient of instincts. We both turned our heads and faced each other. Without a word spoken, it was as though I heard his voice say “That is the perfect place to fuck”. I answered out loud, “Let’s do it!” and the van was then in reverse, heading into the driveway. It was no sooner that the van was in park, that our hands and arms reached out to undress the other. Our lips came together like a magnet, slipping the tip of my tongue in his mouth while I undid the buttons on his shirt. He reached his hand in to my blouse. ”Last Friday, her office hosted a large luncheon as a charity event. I was invited, and carved a bit of time out of my busy day, to go and have lunch with my wife at this event. It was a fun time, and a bit free-wheeling, with alcohol being generously provided. I noticed that the more Stan drank, the more he ogled my wife. It was completely apparent to me that he wanted to fuck her, and I told her so. She again laughed and said, “He is just an old guy having fun.” Anyway, before I was about to. ' She shrank back in shame and then leaned forward, opening her mouth and using her tongue to guide his cock into the wet cold. Her lips closed over the hot, taut skin and she eased his cock down her throat, taking him deep, using her tongue to slide the almost-melted ice cube along its length. He took a sharp breath through his teeth and then wound his fingers into her hair. With a hard thrust he went deeper making her gag and reach out to steady herself. 'Hands behind your back,' he said, she.
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