I don’t want a headache in the morning.” “Me, neither. I’m not much of a drinker. I like the odd pint of beer, but I don’t know a lager from a bitter. Or a Schnapps from a Pils.” “I hope they sell crisps as well. Or nuts.” “I’m sure they do. In fact, I think the New Inn does a very nice pie and chips, though I don’t know what they do at this time of night.” However, neither pie and chips nor quiche and green salad were on Jane’s mind by the time they’d crossed a few roads and entered the warmth of a pub clearly designed to accommodate many times the number of people now sitting in it, with James Blunt on the loudspeakers competing for attention with Hillary Clinton on the television screens. However, Jane didn’t have to wait for long while watching the garbled subtitles below Hillary Clinton’s chin until Charlie came back over to her inexpertly balancing a pint of lager, a glass of white wine and a selection of organic crisps. It was just long enough for Jane to register the reaction. The two of them fed off each other. It was like they had choreographed every move. Donna spread Becca’s legs and proceeded to do unspeakable things to my wife. Becca had no objections. Within minutes, Becca was in the throes of an uncontrollable orgasm. She shook and trembled unlike any time I had ever seen her. She clasped her hands between her legs and begged Donna to stop. Donna flipped on to her back. Becca wasted no time in reciprocating. Watching my wife pleasure another women was almost more than I could stand. My erection quickly returned, as Donna wrapped her fingers around the shaft of my cock, while Becca lapped at the pussy juices flowing from our neighbor’s pussy. I looked at Becca. She nodded her head in approval. I didn’t even have to ask. I slipped my cock into Donna’s pussy. “Oh . . my . .fucking . . gawd!” Donna breathlessly exclaimed as I pumped my steel rod in and out of her swollen pussy. Becca offered me her tongue as I pummeled our neighbor’s pussy. I didn’t.
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