We spoke several times over a few weeks-- she lived in a city a few hours from mine-- and, eventually, decided to meet for coffee (I would be passing ...hrough her town). Both of us-- we’re in our 40s-- had aged well and were still in good shape. It was fun to see her, very relaxed and enjoyable. Then, on my way home, the phone rang. It was Marie. She told me there was something she wanted to say that she hadn't said during our coffee. She told me about her husband, and that he'd always. She stood between my spread legs and gently stroked my obediently-bare pubis. I tried to raise my head to look at him but I couldn't. I did feel his hand slide lightly over my most private parts. His lips captured my clitoris and his tongue flicked against it. My legs trembled. His tongue flicked faster.Mr. Johnson had found my secret-a prominent and highly sensitive clitoris. Any man who touches my clit has me. I am putty in his hands. Paul, my first boyfriend, discovered it, but he wasn't. My wife feigned indignance before scolding me with "how dare you get an erection in front my friends. I'm going to have to punish you but how? Ah yes, go to our room immediately and put that teddy on. You'll find some stockings in my second drawer down (as if I didn't know) and you can put my thigh high boots on as well". I remained rooted to the spot, temporarily paralysed by competing and conflicting feelings of embarrassment and hornyness, my reverie only broken by the added inducement (as. Suddenly, she found that she was in a closet with a big lad from the street repair union who didn't say very much but let his huge hands do the talking for him.She was panting not from the bit of running but from the fact that her normally well hidden boobs were being molded like putty in the hands of Robert the workman with no thought to her personal dignity and lacking any concern about her feelings on the matter. Actually, Lucy was quite pleased with the aggressiveness of Robert because she.
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