”“I slipped as quietly as I could into the bedroom. Marg was laying on the bed in the nude. Her knees were up and her legs were apart, not rudely so but apart enough to allow me to see her and for her fingers to access her clit. She saw me enter but didn’t move. She just smiled at me.”“Phone call over already?”“Nope, Julie just asked me to check something.”“She asked you to check on me?”“Yep.”“Will she be disappointed?”“Definitely not.”She smiled and kept on rubbing her little clit. “You going back to your phone call or are you going to stay and watch a frustrated woman fuck herself?”“Julie told me to tell you that you should wait for me.”“Now that’s a sensible woman. Tell her that I’ll come over and see her when we get home and it won’t be for coffee.”I went back to the phone. Before I could speak, Julie said, “Well, was I right?”“Spot on. Exactly how you said it would be.”“I had better not keep you then. Just remember I want to hear about it. Don’t hide anything from me, will. Her hands released him from above in order to grab him below, and her voice dropped two octaves into a most unusual sound, a guttural moan which shook to the cadence of her hands. She took one long blink to savor the beauty of her pleasure. Alive to how good it was and how bad it was; what she was doing and what she would soon be feeling. Very soon now, the feeling of a conduit connected directly to his groin. Her voice rose as she sensed him quivering and the corners of her pretty lips flared into little peaks of victory, eyes fastened to eyes. Her dark pupils were enlarged with her craving, smoky embers of glory and ice. She heard a distant sound, up and off to an impossible scale, a voice too high for a man but too frenzied for a woman, the wailing of an animal in awful heat. His throat felt stuffed as though by the medium of cotton; he found it impossible to cry although he wanted to, ramming his penis forward to leave it there, a mindless organ spitting into her churning hands..
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