I went down a hall of pictures of her k**s at various years of their life and past empty bedrooms now used for an office and sewing. At the end was th... master bedroom. She turned at the door."Are you sure you want to do this?"I nodded, still somewhat confused.The room looked fresh and clean. I realized I wasn't there to paint.She stood by the bed and faced me. She bit her lip and looked me over."How old are you?" she asked. "No, forget it. Don't tell me."She put her hand on my chest and closed. He took a step toward her, the purple head of his cock, thoughdistant, pointed directly at the sexual parts which glistened invitingly. I gripped her more tightly so she wouldn't turn around, and the thoughtstruck me that he was going to just step up and plunge that long slab ofmeat right into her. My eyes widened, and I shook my head. He hesitated,as if coming to his senses, but then, with one more glance at my wife'sspread ass and the the dual promises of pleasure it revealed, hehalf-closed. At 41, he was going grey in a hurry and a lifetime of sports injuries was making him feel older than he should most days. Her 22 year old exuberance made him feel alive. It also seemed to keep him with perpetual hard-on. There were many times when he arrived home at night to the sounds of her moans of passion bouncing off the hallway walls. She really loved her sex and her Adonis-like boyfriend seemed to keep her knee deep in orgasms. He had beaten his cock raw to the thought of her thick. It hurts because we were so close as kids. Popularity killed our relationship I think. I walked past Colin’s room and saw both couples were under separate covers loosely watching a movie, talking, and making out. I hated Lindsay for what he got to do with my brother. I was about to walk past when I heard what they were talking about. “Dude, we totally need to do that shit tomorrow! Get wasted and go on a hayride!” Colin’s friend Henry suggested. I gotta admit, he was a sexy black man. I’m not.
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