He walked over to a nearby table and picked up her address book, thrusting it at her he told her to write down our phone number and her works address. He asked where she kept her house keys, she feebly pointed to her handbag, which he picked up from the chair. After emptying the contents on the floor he collected the keys, putting them into his pocket.As he walked out the door, he said, "Thanks for the use of your wife's pussy shit-head, you'll be hearing from me"After the door closed, I looked into the living room where my wife was lying on the couch, and I could see that her pussy-lips were badly stretched, and that his sperm was leaking out of her.I reached down to help her up but she pushed me away. "He told me not to move" she muttered, "He wants his sperm to do its work." She looked down at he pussy, "He whispered such dirty things while he made love to me. I never knew sex could be like that." She shook her head. "His penis, it was so..." She tailed off. I was. He'd finished speaking. Shit. How had he ended? “That's a great piece of work, Adam, thank you. Do you have the figures in there for the proposed leasing arrangements for each site?” “Uh, yes, Mr. Copeland. Right here.” I gestured for him to stand next to me behind the desk and I peered at the paper he laid in front of me. In his earnest desire to impress, or perhaps he was actually duly interested and wanted to help, he leant over slightly, his weight held via his knuckles planted on my desk top. I felt my attention drift to the figure beside me. I could smell his aftershave and it fired neurons of desire through my brain, that alone causing surges of heat to swamp my limbs. A flick of my eyes and there was the marvellous curve of his buttocks, pressed tight against the black of his trousers. “Adam ...” I hardly knew that I'd whispered his name out loud, but he turned slightly to face back at me and I realised what I'd done. However, his moving also thrust his body backwards, and.
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