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We all gave each other knowing looks as Mags’ and her old man waved us all good-bye. We followed Dave back to his house in an up-market estate only a mile or say away from our own place. We all went into their front room and Dave offered us drinks as Sandra sat on my lap and started to rub me all over. I took one sip of my scotch then Sandra said, ‘That’s your drink, now for some fun!’ She clamped he mouth on mine and we kissed each other deeply, probing each others mouths. When I came up for air I saw that Dave was sat in an armchair with my wife kneeling in front of him with his dick in her mouth. Sandra jumped off my lap and pulled her dress over her head to reveal her naked body underneath. She then started to strip me of my Levi’s and T-shirt before pushing me back so that I was lying down on their settee. Sandra then straddled me, Mags’ pussy juices still visible on my cock head. Sandra was so juiced up and horny that she sank straight down onto me in one slow movement. She. ‘I…’ She wanted to say no, but there was not a drop of soup nor crumb of bread left. ‘Yes.’ ‘Shall we?’ he drawled urbanely, with a sweeping gesture down to his lap. ‘I have plans to add a little variety to tonight’s proceedings.’ Christ, what dark intent did he have now? She shuffled over to his chair and lifted her pleading brown eyes to him. But instead of placing herself over his lap, she perched on one knee and swiftly locked the back of his head with her hands, lunging forward to kiss his lips. She was shaking with fear at what his response might be…but he was pulling her closer…and kissing her back, a long, hungry kiss that pitted his firm lips against her yielding ones, scraping her delicate skin with his whiskers and stimulating a hundred different tingling nerves on her full mouth. She was spinning into the sensation, falling into his rum-soaked breath and his masculine heat, letting it take her away from her sheltered, ladylike identity and towards womanhood. But then she.
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