Julia stepped out of the clothes at her feet and looked down at me as I kneeled in front of her."What?" she asked. "Do I look okay? Is something wrong..." You're good enough to fuck, so don't worry," I told her. "What are these marks across your lower belly? Are they scars?" Mike, I've had three kids!" groaned Julia. "A lot of women get bigger stretch marks than those when they are pregnant. They don't show that much, do they?Julia was agitated as she moved one hand down to cover her lower. After a lot of ego boosting spirits, together they staggered to the station, each buying a big bunch of flowers from a stall in the station, (the railway equivalent of ‘petrol station after-thought flowers’,) both thinking it, an ice breaker, a diplomatic start of their week of hopeful lust. Taking their places in the train and sharing a last nip from their hip flask`s, they exchanged wives names, house keys and oh the house addresses, just in case, each saying that the wives should be meeting. ”“Most girls? Most girls I know couldn’t put together a plan that far in advance. Besides, once we get to Grand Forks, I’ll double your payment.”“Deal. Now let’s get to the pure pleasure part.”Fucking A! It was.I’d always been one of those girls—well, women—who assumed that all the jocks were terrible lovers, only concerned about themselves and not about their women’s pleasure. Well, the only one I had to compare, I’d married. He needed to get his rocks off and I had a pussy. End of story.Allen. Paul loved Mick like a brother. Diana loved Mick just slightly more than me. I’ve loved Diana since the night that we compared out first pubic hairs and touched each other.I came to understand that I was bisexual shortly after the first time I fucked Paul. Having only had a sexual relationship with one person, Diana, I was worried that having that thing in Paul’s pants in my pussy would make me sick, but it felt pretty good. It didn’t feel as good as Diana’s tongue or fingers or lips. But if I.
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