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But, mostly, I just had him masturbate while I talked to him. I did not allow my husband to fuck me during this time. However, I did promise him that, when I returned, Alfredo's sperm would be swimming in my diaphragm-protected vagina, and after he'd cleaned me up properly with his tongue, I might allow him to fuck me. It was early Sunday morning, the day of my departure. As had become our practice, Oscar bathed me, shaved my parts, polished my nails, and prepared me for my date. Only this. ‘Do you fancy going out for an hour or two and just having some fun? he said, with considerable animation. He stared hard at her, holding his breath as he waited for her reply. She thought for a moment. ‘Yeah… I’d like that very much actually,’ she replied, nodding her head in agreement, smiling, and secretly surprised by the realisation of the simplicity of the solution Alan proffered to life’s problems. Alan raced up to her, his stance wide and alive. ‘Great, let’s go,’ he roared, his face. We went inside and prepared our hamburgers, mine with cheese, his without. We sat at his kitchen table and ate while making light hearted chatter, about this kid or that kid or the dumb ass in tech who made us deep clear the board. After we finished eating and put our dishes away we went back to the couch. We were watching some tv show about storage lockers when we heard a key in the door. We looked at each other for a second, then I bolted out the back door. I walked around to the side window. Come on, I want you to show me your pussy.”I hesitated a bit before complying, bending my arms so my elbows touched the ground as well as my hands and I leaned forward and balanced myself on my forearms, spreading my knees a little wider so you could see what you wanted, presenting myself to you, pink and wet and dripping.“Good girl. You're still in trouble for opening your mouth, though.”I felt you run your fingers along my sopping slit, first up one side then the other, teasing me. I fought.
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