Both had an arm around their partner. ‘Tea. Answer to all problems!’ said Denise, shakily. ‘Why is it we British always think we can solve a problem with a cup of tea?’ ‘Well, it can’t hurt, can it?’ said Stan, which drew a snort from Anne and a shaky smile from Denise. Stan blew across his cup to cool the hot liquid. ‘It’s a stimulant, it gives you something to do, it gives you time to think. It’s also a tradition, and it helps everyone feel like they’re doing something. Making a cup of tea is sort of like therapy for the rest of us,’ Anne said. ‘It’s what we do.’ Stan finished, as he took a sip and exhaled, ‘Aaahhh!’ ‘Dope!’ Denise said, but the mood had lightened a little. At least now she had stopped crying. ‘Do you think I have any chance at all of winning them back?’ Denise asked, softly into the silence, not looking at either of them. Stan felt Anne’s reluctance to say anything, but something had to be said. ‘I don’t know, Denise. Perhaps. But some things, once said, can’t be. . whether a raw penetration close up or a direct penis or pussy close up... with time she was increasingly more comfortable and open... her detailed descriptions more verbose and unfiltered... while listening to her, the cock throbs would multiply... I would feel compelled to firmly grab my shaft as it would reach fully erection... then timidly draw her attention to my fully erect penis as I pulled my hand away... letting it forcefully remain pointing forward... seeing her eyes in awe and mouth politely salivate, I would provoke her further by standing up as close as possible to her mouth, exposing my dripping tip half an inch from her lips... de-concentrating her from her description, she stumbled as she looked for her words... her eyes riveted to my manhood... her slightly open mouth softly begging for just a brief taste... digging deep in self restraint she helf back her most primal desire... one where she would surrender and voraciously devour me... sometimes the pressure so high.
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