.unable to control myself I hump against your hand. My asshole massaging your cock still buried deep in me..I hear Your voice echo in my ears... Remem...er slut, why you exist... Do NOT writhe so much for your pleasure that you forget what you are...I hear your warning.. gathering my senses.. I manage to finally speak..Please Sir... believe me... I know what and who I am.. I am your whore, your slut, your fuckmeat.. Here for your pleasure..But please Sir... Do not fault me for the pleasure I get. Erica Palmer, my girlfriend's mother, had a lot of things in common with her daughter. For one, she has the same shade of blonde hair as my girlfriend does. Her nose is sharp along the bridge but round at the tip. Her eyes are emerald green like her daughter' and she has full lips that a man would love to kiss.She had the same height and built as her daughter and from the back, she looked almost like her. Erica is an astoundingly similar carbon copy of Rachel, my girlfriend. No, wait. Actually,. There were a handful of single guys that worked there. We knew it was a swingers club. We didn't realize how open it was. The reasons we went here. My wife had a couple of affairs years ago. She denied it. I knew she did. She was very good in bed. She could suck my dick slow, fast or hard. She would gag as she tried deep throat and moan and swallow my load. She was wet and tight. Eating her pussy, you could feel her cum on your tongue. Hot fucking. She was horny. She would fuck missionary. On. That was the sign we were done for the evening.“I didn’t know the dress code.”About two weeks later, there was another evening with wine and a movie. I wasn’t particularly in the mood. After the movie, my wife went on to bed. I fed the cat etcetera and came to bed a few minutes later. Under the sheets, my wife was naked, and brilliant conversationalist that I am, said the obvious, “You’re naked.”To which my wife jokingly replied, “I didn’t know the dress code.”I pulled out our purple friend.
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