Indian First Night

She didn't want me to see her tears, so I ignored the ones that had soaked into my shirt.It wasn't long before I heard the water running in her shower. She might love having the little horse named after her, but she didn't want to go to bed smelling like it.I showered, too, and slept well, awakening two minutes before the alarm. I switched it off, dressed, and went in search of caffeine, the paper, and television's morning news programs.Cheryl slept late, despite the hour time difference. She never had been a morning person. I was considering waking her when she came staggering down the staircase, using the handrail to keep from falling.She was wearing a clingy turquoise lace something that left no doubt that nothing was beneath it. The effect was breathtaking. In addition to the tween legs and the perky handfuls on her chest, she had the slightest onset of womanly hips that made you think, "I'd bet a hundred bucks that those weren't there yesterday." They bracketed her third hated. Arlene pitched wildly beneath Sam's heaving body. She pounded his buttocks with her heels. She slipped her hands to the top of her vagina and touched her triggering clitoris. She was dimly aware of the intruder, and she knew it was Barbara standing beside the bed, but she didn't stop fucking.Obviously embarrassed, but too aroused to stop, Sam kept pumping into the gasping, quivering, climaxing woman beneath him. "Jesus Christ!" he grunted. "Don't stand there watching!" he told his bemused wife.Barbara had always suspected her husband played around, and it had never bothered her. She hardly had a legitimate gripe since she had been screwing around for years. But this was the first time she'd ever caught him in the act, and despite Sam's insistence that she not watch, she stood there frozen, excitement building up between her legs.Arlene couldn't contain her lust. She knew her legs were jerking about obscenely and that Barbara was watching, but her climax continued.Neither could she.
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